


By the Dawn's Early Light

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: AU, Future, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-12
Updated: 2007-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wow.  I can't believe I finally finished this.  Maybe it's not quite as good at the end as it was at the beginning, and I sort of ran out of steam in there somewhere, but I wanted to post it for some significant occasion, and rather than waiting for the 4th of July again, I decided the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/14valentines/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/14valentines/"><b>14valentines</b></a> "voting" challenge was a worthy reason to post.  I started this fic in May 2006 after seeing <i>V for Vendetta</i> and reading a drabble with a somewhat similar futuristic circumstance.  And then there were vampires.  I wasn't able to find a beta for this, so any mistakes are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Dawn's Early Light

The date was June 21st, 2011. Viggo Mortensen, indefinitely out of work and increasingly frightened of the forces that were coming together in his nation, sat glued to the television screen, his living room dark and almost bare. Fortunately, Viggo had seen it coming. When George W. Bush's reign as president was over, a new Republican came into office, and Viggo was perhaps one of the first to realize how dangerous this new man in power was. Not only was he extremely conservative, ruthless, and evangelical, but the new President had a brain. This was a force to be reckoned with, and one for which a weakened America was not by any means ready.

He had gotten Henry out. That was his biggest concern, and he had succeeded. Henry and his girlfriend had left for Denmark nearly a year before, and had found jobs in Århus with the help of some distant cousins. Viggo's artwork had gone with them, all his best paintings and photographs, for Viggo had known that in a police state, artistic expression is the first thing to go. His most important possessions were hidden or out of the country, and the people he loved were safe. Sean Astin and his family had also left California, and were settling in Glasgow with Billy's help. Christine was with family in Germany. Viggo was the only one left, but a month ago, he had lost his own chance of escape, and was resigned to his fate.

Blacklisted. The term, one that hadn't held so much fear since the McCarthy era, was back with a vengeance, applied to writers, artists, actors, filmmakers, non-Christian religious leaders, and left-wing politicians. The President and his frighteningly extensive network of supportive officials throughout the nation made it a point to blacklist anyone who disagreed, anyone who didn't go along with his extremist policies. An election year was coming up, and many members of the resistance hoped for victory in 2012, but Viggo was smarter than that. There would be no election.

Britain and France had withdrawn their diplomats three months before. Arrests increased by the day, and curfews were applied. Anti-discrimination laws were ripped off the books, and Jews, immigrants, and homosexuals were frequently incarcerated for dummy offences that masked the true reason for their persecution. Viggo knew when he was blacklisted that it was only a matter of time. His passport was taken away, and he was stuck in his LA home to wait it out. Stuck here, watching the television, praying for the safety of his friends.

When the men came in the night, clad in black with only their official federal badges to distinguish them from common bank robbers, Viggo was ready. He held out his hands, allowed them to drag him away. His books were safe; his art was safe; his friends were safe. Little else mattered.

 

June 25th, 2011. Night.

Viggo groaned as a loud rumbling sound wrenched him from a particularly pleasant dream. His back was stiff and sore from where he slept on the concrete floor of the small cell, and his muscles seemed to be in a constant state of shivering. The guards were merciless, as he had expected, and he hadn't eaten in four days. Here in the newly rebuilt Alcatraz facility, blacklisted citizens were put in holding cells where they would be interrogated, asked to reveal the locations of other suspected lawbreakers. Suspicion, of course, was a joke here. Suspected or indicted, it didn't matter. This facility wasn't open to the press, which was now increasingly under government control anyway, and no heroic rescue attempts were going to be made. The people in these cells would be here until their deaths, Viggo was almost certain.

And yet this foreign sound, sharp in his ears, caused Viggo to blink uneasily in the dark, to try to make out what was going on. The cell was three feet long and four feet wide, with a small hole in one corner designed to relieve oneself. Of course, the smell was horrible, and despite the balmy summer air outdoors, was kept unnaturally cold. There were no windows, and the ceiling was unnaturally low, but when Viggo's eyes opened he sensed some movement in the outer wall, and his eyes went wide when light began to creep in, signalling the removal of the concrete block bricks from the outside.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, there was a hole at the base of the wall just wide enough for a man to shimmy through, and about four feet deep.

"Well, come on then!" a familiar voice urged, and Viggo blinked. It couldn't be. But that wasn't his concern right now, and he wasn't going to give up such an obvious opportunity of escape, even if the attempt would basically be suicide.

Saying a quick prayer, Viggo rolled to his stomach and began to shimmy through the tunnel created by the removed bricks, and sure enough, found himself out in the moonlight in the matter of minutes. Viggo could scarcely believe it, as he hadn't really hoped to breathe fresh air again or ever see the sun or moon, but what was even more unbelievable was the sight with which he was met on the other side.

Next to the hole sat a pile of rubble, as if someone had drilled through the wall, but that wasn't possible, for the structural integrity of the building didn't appear compromised and there were no tools lying around. Furthermore, crouching next to the pile was a face he never expected to see again—Orlando Bloom, clear as anything, yet in his current ensemble of black cape and matching trousers, paired with a ruffled white poet's shirt and a red handkerchief in the front pocket to match the lining of his cape, Orlando looked very out of place indeed. Or rather, Viggo corrected himself, frighteningly _in_ place, as if this ensemble, not his usual garish clothing, was what he was most comfortable in, and the seemingly insane rescue attempt was just a part of everyday life.

"Orli?" Viggo asked, halfway between a gasp and a whisper. The other man just grinned, pulled him into a tight hug, and then gestured across a barren field to the edge of the island, surrounded by high electrical fences.

"Come on, we haven't much time. I promise I'll explain all this when you're safe," Orlando promised, and Viggo just stared.

"But the guards…"

"Have been taken care of. Please don't be offended but well, I kind of have to do this. You don't really want to be climbing a fence with that kind of voltage in it naked," Orlando reasoned, and Viggo found himself just gawking as he remembered the lack of clothing used to humiliate prisoners a bit too late, and then found himself thrown over Orlando's shoulder as effortlessly as if he were a sack of flour.

The run to the fence was surprisingly quick, almost superhuman if he really thought about it, but this was the least of his worries as Orlando approached the fence head-on. "What are you crazy? You're going to…"

"Shh. Just trust me, Vig. I've got you." And with that, the younger man was effortlessly scaling the fence, using only the hand that wasn't holding Viggo so that Viggo faced safely away from the electrical current. At this point, Viggo was certain he was dreaming, for there was no way any man could touch voltage like that and come out alive, but here they were at the top and now Orlando was just _jumping_ from the fifteen metre height like there was nothing to it.

Viggo was too shocked to scream, and found himself seriously reassessing his concept of reality when Orlando took the drop with a preternatural grace, his cape billowing behind him, and hit the ground in a crouch, one hand down, the other safely holding Viggo over his shoulder. Before he could question what was going on, though, both Viggo and Orlando were speeding across San Francisco Bay in a canoe. Speeding. In a canoe.

"You're… you can't be… human." Viggo's voice was nothing but a whisper, but Orlando heard him clearly over the waves as he paddled with a ridiculous velocity across the open water.

"No, no I can't," Orlando admitted with a grin.

"But then… what are you?"

"It's… Viggo, it's a bit of a long story. I'm the same man you've known for years, and I ask you, please, to trust me at least until you're safe. I promise I won't hurt you, and that I can protect you, but… you need to trust me."

"Okay," Viggo agreed, staring at Orlando as if he could suss out his secret just by looking hard enough. He was confused, yes, and not sure what to believe anymore, but anything was better than the hell he had been through recently. And somehow, in the back of his mind, this made sense to him. Orlando had always been a bit crazy, a bit awkward, but there was also a sense that there was something underneath, something deeper—more mature. There was a piece of the picture missing, and Viggo felt strangely comforted to realise that this, whatever "this" was, had to be it. He would trust Orlando with his life until given a reason to do otherwise.

"Get down, Vig. They might shoot from the bank if they see us. I took care of the guards who were on duty when I left, but I'm sure there are reinforcements by now."

"Took care of… how, exactly?"

"Vig, I'm serious. You need to get down."

"But what if they shoot at you?" Viggo pointed out as he scooted down to lie on his back in the bottom of the boat, his calves sliding alongside Orlando's.

"Oh, you needn't worry about that," Orlando replied with a grin that reminded Viggo of carefree days, back in New Zealand when Orlando was younger…well, even now the young man looked like he had hardly aged a day, but surely his years would catch up with him sooner rather than later. Still, Viggo enjoyed seeing the young man so happy, in a time when it was rare for anyone to be smiling. "I'll be fine," Orlando assured him. "It's they who need to worry. After all ammunition does, eventually, run out. As does my patience," he explained with a wink.

Fortunately, Viggo didn't have to ponder that eventuality too carefully, as by some miracle they were able to escape the bay undetected. After about twenty minutes of paddling, during which Orlando never got even the slightest bit out of breath, they finally pulled into a rocky cave many miles outside of San Francisco. "You can rest here," Orlando explained, leading the way onto dry land and further within the caves.

"_I_ can rest? You're the one who's been playing 'row your boat' all night," Viggo pointed out incredulously.

Orlando sighed and took a seat on a low rock, smiling as he patted a spot next to him. "Have a seat, Vig. I think this is going to take awhile."

Viggo nodded and sat down next to Orlando, shivering in the night air. Orlando slipped his cape from his shoulders and draped it around Viggo's shoulders, pulling him close at the same time. "Jesus, I'm sorry. You must be freezing." Orlando clutched his friend tightly, and Viggo welcomed the touch until he registered Orlando's body temperature.

"Jesus, you're burning up!" he exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I fed quite a lot tonight… I don't know when I'll be able to do it again."

"Fed?" Viggo tensed slightly, but didn't back away. "Orli, what…"

"I'm sorry, Vig. I wish I could have told you sooner, it's just… I trust you as well as nearly anyone, but I rarely tell a human who I am… what I am, rather. It's safer for them, in the long run. But it can't be avoided now."

"I'm listening, Orli." Orlando smiled when Viggo didn't leave his arms and squeezed him slightly.

"Thank you. Viggo, I guess I should just tell it like it is. I'm a vampire. Vampires are real, and, well, I am one."

"A vampire." It wasn't a question, but Orlando nodded nonetheless.

"Yes. I… I'm over six hundred years old, Viggo. You must have noticed the fact that I haven't aged over the past twelve years, I… I would have had to leave soon, escape the public eye. I wouldn't have been able to see you again, and I guess this is why I rarely interacted much with humans in the past, but… well I always wanted to be an actor," Orlando explained with a smile and a shrug.

"So you're… immortal, then?"

"Yes. I can't be killed by a human. Weakened, yes, but never killed. Much of what you read in books and hear in legends about us isn't true. Garlic, crucifixes, sunlight… none of that matters. A vampire can kill another vampire, and there are very few left on this earth now, only a handful after a series of conflicts in the fifteenth and nineteenth centuries, but there are a few of us."

"And do you… do you 'turn' human beings, then? Is that part true, at least?"

"I can, yes. I certainly don't turn everyone I feed from, though, nor do I kill them. Killing is only done when necessary, normally to defend an innocent human being. And a vampire rarely turns another human… immortality is an extremely rare gift, one that cannot be given lightly."

"But then it isn't difficult for you, being around humans all the time? I mean you don't have a desire to feed…?"

"Certainly, yes. I want to feed, but I don't have to. I'm not a monster, Viggo."

"No, I didn't…"

"It's okay," Orlando reassured, reaching out to touch Viggo's thigh. "You wouldn't be the first, and you won't be the last. The truth, however, is that the desire to feed is no more than mortal hunger. And vampires, it so happens, possess an extreme amount of will power, well beyond that of any human. You might liken it, for example, to the desire to eat a batch of cookies that you're baking as a gift for someone else. It's tempting, but not an overpowering desire. You can restrain yourself. Yes, I've smelled the blood in your veins countless times, sometimes when I was hungry, but I've never thought to take what was not given willingly."

"Oh." Viggo was still for a moment, processing the information, and Orlando just smiled. "Then how do you feed, if you only kill when it's necessary?"

"Well, the best way is to have a few friends to act as permanent feeds. You tell someone who you are, swear them to secrecy, and then you feed from them without draining them. It's also possible to feed from strangers and then erase their memories. They'll fall unconscious when you're finished, and then, when they wake, they'll remember only a vague discomfort, as if they passed out from hunger or thirst."

"Ironic."

Orlando grinned. "Quite, yes."

"So what about you? Do you have a permanent feed?"

"Two, actually. Dominic has done the job for a while when I've been in England, and up until recently, Elijah…"

"Is he okay?" Viggo asked, his voice suddenly concerned. "He's not as politically active as I am, and I didn't see his name on the blacklists so far, but I haven't been able to reach him or find out if he's left the country…"

"Viggo." Viggo stopped talking suddenly, noting how remarkably powerful Orlando's voice could be when he wished it. "Vig, he's fine. Elijah… well Elijah and I formed a special bond when I fed from him. I mean, you always form a bond with someone you share blood with; the intimacy of it makes that unavoidable, but with Elijah it was different," Orlando explained with a fond smile.

"Sexual?"

Orlando grinned, almost smirking. "That too would be almost unavoidable, my dear Viggo. Yes, Elijah and I are sexually intimate with one another, but so were Dominic and I. It is, after all, the best way to feed." Viggo gulped at the predatory look in Orlando's eye, but didn't move away.

"Then what's different, about Elijah? What's special, I mean?"

"Well, at first I wasn't sure. I could feel the strength of our bond, stronger than the one between Dominic and I, than any bond I've had in so many years of feeding on human blood, but I didn't recognize it for what it was. With any permanent feed you develop a vague awareness of the human's condition and emotional state, a survival mechanism that allows you to protect them, but with Elijah it was much deeper. When I drank Elijah's blood I could feel every sensibility, every nuance of his emotion pumping through me, and what is much stranger, he could feel the same from me. For a long time I didn't understand it, but then later, after _Rings_ wrapped, I figured it out. You see, my own sire was killed shortly after he turned me, but I was initially his permanent feed as well. The connection wasn't quite as strong between us before I was turned, but I knew it for what it was. After six hundred years, I was surprised to feel that again, but I understood it. I explained to Elijah, and I gave him a choice. He chose to become like me."

"And so Elijah's a vampire, too?"

"Indeed. The most beautiful vampire I've met, though I may be a bit biased." Orlando smiled with a gleam in his eye, and Viggo laughed in return, picturing Elijah. The kid was already pale as a ghost, with those amazing eyes, and so it didn't take much for Viggo to imagine Elijah as a supernatural being.

"So where is he then?"

"Elijah's safe; don't worry. He took it upon himself to transport some of the works of art that you put into hiding, the ones that Henry couldn't take with him, over to Europe. He's been running books across as well, and other things seized by the censors. Our dear Elijah has turned into quite the little vigilante culture-rescuer, I'll say." Orlando's tone was proud, and Viggo laughed from relief. "But you'll see him soon enough. In fact, as soon as you've had a couple hours' rest, we'll be meeting him."

"Here?"

"Not far from here. He's commandeered a small plane, and he'll be picking us up. There's a small island in the Pacific, about two hours' flight from here, that's a British possession. Once we get there a British pilot will be there to fly us to Australia."

"Elijah's going to fly a plane? You're kidding me. Besides, won't they intercept him?"

"Vampires have extraordinary instincts, so no. He can fly under the radar… just think of how he and Dom play video games, and you'll get the idea."

"In other words, I should sign my death certificate now?"

Orlando grinned and patted Viggo on the back. "You'll be fine. He's on his way in now, and having very few difficulties at the moment."

"How do you know?"

Orlando tapped his forehead with one finger. "It's a benefit of being sire to another vampire. We can not only sense each other's emotions, but also communicate through our minds. It's an ancient form of protection, one that came in handy during the old vampire conflicts. Family ties are quite strong with our race, and there's nothing a vampire cares about more than protecting the ones he's turned."

"Is Elijah the only one for you?" Orlando nodded. "And what of your sire, he…?"

"I was too young, when he died, to do anything. He died protecting me, and then I escaped. It was luck, really, but I survived where many did not. I spent a hundred years mourning him, but everything has its natural end. I lay low then, during the second wave of conflicts, and I came out of all of it alive and quite strong. I hadn't had much contact with the human world for most of my life, and was content to be an observer, but a lot has changed since then," Orlando admitted with a fond smile.

"You're okay then, now? I mean, after all that?"

"Yes. But I'd die to protect Elijah. Or Dominic, or any of you, but…"

"It's okay. I understand," Viggo replied with a smile.

"Good. Get some rest. It's wonderful to see you, Vig, but we can catch up later. I'll keep watch."

"You don't need…?"

"I'm fine. Sleep isn't wholly necessary for me, just as breathing is no longer a necessity. I feed every few days, and that's all I need."

"That and love," Viggo replied perceptively, and Orlando smiled brightly.

"Yes, that and love," he agreed, tugging Viggo to lie down with his head in Orlando's lap. "Sleep now," he whispered, passing his hand over Viggo's eyes, and almost instantly Viggo found his lids drooping. Neat trick, that.

 

June 26th, 2011. Early morning.

"Viggo, mate! It's brilliant to see you!"

Viggo grinned as Elijah pulled him into a massive hug just inside the small fighter plane's door, thankful that his younger friend wasn't bashful as he stood before him in nothing but a cape held in place by one hand.

"You too, hobbit. Can't believe you flew this thing here all by yourself."

Elijah grinned gleefully and gestured to the back two seats in the four-seat vehicle, which Viggo took thankfully. "Just don't tell Sean. He'd have my head."

"All right you two, enough chit-chat," Orlando interrupted with a worried look, stepping aboard and quickly hauling up the steps to the plane and shutting the door. "We need to get the fuck out of dodge right about now."

Viggo quickly buckled his seatbelt, looking quite worried, but Elijah was unperturbed. "We're not going anywhere until I get a proper hello," he insisted with a pout, and Orlando rolled his eyes before giving him a hard, fast kiss that Viggo guessed was not at all grudgingly delivered.

"Okay, 'Lij. We've gotta go, now." Elijah nodded, apparently appeased by the kiss, and slid into the pilot's seat, with Orlando in the first mate's position. Viggo noticed that they didn't bother with the headphones or communications equipment as Elijah released the brake and began taxiing down the back road that was functioning as a makeshift runway, but then, he figured, mind reading was probably as reliable a communications form as any modern technology.

The ride itself was uneventful for the most part, with the exception of one somewhat daunting manoeuvre Elijah had to pull to avoid being picked up by Hawaiian radar. Viggo found it impossible to sleep or otherwise calm his nerves while in the passenger's seat of a fighter plane, but he did feel noticeably more at ease when they finally landed on British soil a couple of hours later.

The plane they had commissioned for the flight to Australia was considerably larger, a commercial plane with sixty-four seats, and the only thing that was slightly out of sorts about the whole thing was the lack of other passengers or flight attendants. Still, Viggo was thankful for the privacy, and he found Elijah and Orlando to be of a like mind as they curled up together on two fully reclined first-class seats. Watching them sleep—or whatever it was they did when their eyes were closed, for it was difficult to tell whether the vampires were actually sleeping—Viggo noticed a quality to their physical touch that he hadn't picked up on before. Orlando held Elijah as you would a fragile doll or a treasured possession, one hand resting on Elijah's hip as the other arm cradled his neck. In sleep, Elijah looked especially rested and peaceful, and Viggo smiled as he realized the extent of their bond.

The flight was long, and though Viggo did sleep a few hours, somewhat more comfortable in the soft cushions of his seat and in real clothes for the first time in a week, when he woke they were still many hours from Australia.

"Sleep well?" Elijah asked, his voice soft and contented, and Viggo smiled and nodded. Now that he was out of danger, he was thrilled to be seeing his friends again and hopefully soon to be reunited with his family.

"Come here, King. We won't bite," Orlando suggested, holding out his arms and then laughing at his own joke. Viggo shook his head, smiling to himself, and allowed himself to be pulled into a three-way cuddle on the now-upright seats. Orlando was propped against the window with several cushions, Elijah in his arms, and Viggo settled easily into in Elijah's. At an earlier date, he probably would've been afraid to crush the slighter man, but now Viggo was pretty sure that if any crushing was going to be done it wasn't by him.

"So do you have any questions for us?" Elijah asked gently, stroking Viggo's hair.

"Um… well I guess I'm curious. Orlando said you and Dom were his two permanent feeds, but now that you're a vampire too, do the two of you have anyone else to do that for you?"

"No," Elijah answered. "Actually, Dom doesn't fill that role anymore, either. When he and Billy got together after Billy split up with Ali, we allowed him to tell Billy the truth. He understood but preferred that Dominic no longer let us feed from him, which we respect."

"Wait, what? Billy and Ali split up? Dom and Billy are finally together?? You didn't tell me that!" Viggo exclaimed, staring at Orlando incredulously, and Elijah burst out laughing.

"It just happened, a couple of months ago. None of us could reach you…"

"Of course, yeah." Viggo's phone line had been cut when his passports were taken, computer seized, identity essentially destroyed before being hauled off to that awful place.

"You're safe now," Elijah murmured against his ear, evidently sensing the wave of memories to which Viggo was succumbing. "We won't let anyone hurt you," he whispered, continuing to run his fingers comfortingly through Viggo's hair. "We were always watching over you, you know. We wanted to help you before they took you, but there were complications, and I had to get my family out first…" Elijah bit his lip, a little guiltily, but Viggo shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine. I understand," he interrupted with a weak smile. "They're okay?"

"Yeah, they're in London now and doing just fine, if a little shocked."

"They know?"

"I had to tell them. Would've had to anyway," Elijah pointed out. "I'm not getting any older, and they would have noticed eventually. But they understand, I mean they do now." Viggo nodded.

"What about the other people in the prison?" he asked. "Will you go back for them?"

Orlando and Elijah exchanged a look before Orlando answered. "Vig, I'd like to, but… we have to come at things from something of a big-picture approach. You were my first concern. I'd love to have liberated the entire prison, but I can't meddle in human affairs like that, especially now that my face is recognisable. I mean, think of it—I could take out every guard in the place, but then people would see me, and the word would spread, and I'd become some sort of a fucking superhero. There's a reason why vampires tend to keep to themselves and stay out of human affairs. It's not our place to alter history."

Viggo frowned. "Well I'd think it would be your right as much as anybody's."

"Not exactly… think of it this way. Elijah and I are immortal. We'll be here when every human living on this earth now is gone, and when this moment is ancient history, we'll still be here, and we'll still remember it. If we got too involved, it would be like playing God. And I have some respect for the natural order of things. The earth provides, and I don't mess with its rules when I can avoid it. It's a symbiosis."

Viggo nodded. "Suddenly your adherence to Buddhist philosophy makes a lot more sense."

Orlando smiled. "Well, you live this long and you have to come up with something to explain everything. But I'm being a horrible excuse for a friend at the moment, pondering all this… you must be starving. Would you like some more to eat?" he offered. Viggo had gotten a couple of sandwiches when they got on the plane, but nothing since then.

"I'm fine," he insisted, but Elijah frowned.

"You're too thin. I can't imagine what being in that place was like…"

"Well yeah, I didn't eat there, but it was only four days."

"Thank God," Orlando cut in. "I really am sorry we couldn't come sooner, Vig…"

"It's fine; I told you it was fine."

"Viggo, I saw your back. They hurt you, didn't they? Pretty badly…" Viggo nodded, not wanting to relive those particular scars. He was fine now, a little sore but well taken care of, and he wanted nothing but to forget.

"It's in the past, Orli. I'm fine. But what about you, Elijah? You haven't fed lately, have you? I can tell that you're cold…"

"Oh Jesus, I'm sorry Vig. I didn't think about that, if you're uncomfortable you can lie against Orli instead..."

"No, no, you misunderstand me. I mean… I'm offering you my blood, Elijah. If you want it." Viggo twisted slightly in Elijah's arms, fixing him with a pointed look, and tugged his collar to the side.

"No, Viggo." Orlando answered for Elijah, and though the younger man looked tempted, he nodded in agreement with Orlando.

"Orli's right, Vig. I can't feed from you now, not when you're like this. You aren't healthy, and the blood loss would be too much for you. I'll be fine till we land, and then I'll find someone." Viggo frowned, wanting to argue, but seeing Orlando's decisive look and knowing he couldn't win.

"Okay, but… you know, once I'm better, if you want to… if either of you do…"

"Thank you, Viggo," Orlando replied, a genuine smile lighting his face as he leaned over Elijah's shoulder to place a kiss to the corner of Viggo's mouth. "We really appreciate that, you know. Blood as a gift freely given is the most precious thing you can offer a vampire, and we'll take you up on it if you still want to offer when you're better. But right now your recovery is the most important thing."

"Yeah, he's right," Elijah acknowledged. "You're not seriously injured anywhere, are you?" he asked with a frown, reaching up and gently brushing a faded bruise on Viggo's dirty cheek.

"No, I… well they shoved me around a bit and whipped me; there are welts and cuts on my back I'm sure." Orlando nodded in confirmation, and Elijah bit his lip sympathetically. "They went kind of… Biblical, in their punishments. They were trying to get information, but also they kept demanding that I repent for my sins, all sorts of shit like that that seemed to me completely hypocritical…"

"Yeah, a lot of the people running those facilities are hardcore evangelicals," Orlando confirmed. "We've been doing some… well I guess vigilante work is the best way to put it. The worst of the damage has already begun, but any support that we can lend to good people in this, we will. It would be nice to just relax at home, you know, ignore what's going on in the States, but we can't do that. It'll spread, eventually, or escalate to war. I've seen too many innocent lives lost in my time to stand for this."

Viggo smiled, seeing the fight in Orlando's eyes, and squeezed his and Elijah's hands. "Anything I can do to help…"

"Thank you, Vig. But we just want you safe," Orlando protested.

"No… my safety is the least of my concerns. I'm thankful to you guys for getting me out of there, but what kind of bastard would I be if I didn't do whatever I could to end this? I mean, my closest friends and family are safe, but there are plenty of people whom I love and couldn't get out in time, and even more whom I've never met but don't deserve this. Let me help you guys, Orli. Please."

Orlando smiled at Viggo's insistence and nodded. "I'm working on finding ways for you guys to help… Billy and Dom want to as well, and Beanie… I just don't want to risk human lives, not of those I care about. I've seen too much…" Orlando broke off there, and Viggo suddenly realized just how much the vampire had to have seen in six hundred and some odd years on earth.

"You… Jesus, Orli. You saw the Holocaust…"

Orlando nodded, pain evident in his eyes. "I did whatever I could to get people out, and eventually the good guys won, but too many people died. And not just there… the Inquisition, the Reign of Terror in France, Stalin… I've seen it happen time and again, Vig. I grew up during the bloody plague, you know, and medieval Europe wrote the book on torture. You can't stop history from repeating itself, I've learned, but you can do whatever's necessary to make people realize what's going on before it's too late. I can't believe this is happening now, in the 21st century, in the United States, but then it's the same thing we always say. History isn't real to those who haven't lived it, you know. You're mortal; that's not your fault, but no one ever believes until it's too late…"

Orlando's eyes went slightly glassy with the memory, and Elijah squirmed out from under Viggo to turn in his arms, hugging him tightly and kissing absently up and down his jaw, on his cheeks and under his eyes, catching tears with his lips. "You did all you could, baby. You always do, and you'll do it again. And this time I'll be here to help you. I'm proud of you, okay? I really am…"

Viggo smiled as Orlando took Elijah into his arms, allowing himself to be comforted, and backed away a bit, giving them some space to find solace in each other. No matter what happened in the future, he was glad they had each other.

 

June 27th, 2011. Evening.

When the trio arrived at Sydney International Airport, a veritable entourage awaited them. Australian press seemed to have somehow picked up on the news that a blacklisted American movie star had managed to escape to their shores, but kept a respectable distance for the moment, content to take photos of a gathering that brought together more actors of their group than had been in one place since the last _Rings_ premiere eight years previous.

With Orlando and Elijah flanking him, Viggo went through customs, obtaining a two-month visa and instructions to apply for refugee status or re-apply for a passport and visa at the Danish embassy if he wished to remain in the country and seek work. When he came out on the other side, though, a huge grin came to his face. He had expected to see Hugo and Dave, maybe Miranda, but nothing prepared him for the number of friends who had flown to Australia to await his safe return.

Dom and Billy, who had been holding hands and grinning when he approached, were the first to smother him in full on hobbit-tackle hugs, making sure he was in one piece before moving on to Orli and Elijah and inquiring in whispered tones about the escape. Next to greet him was Sean Bean, who, to Viggo's surprise, actually had a tear in his eye when he pulled back from their manly, but very tight, hug. Grinning, he took Sean's head in his hands and gave his friend a kiss full on the mouth, momentarily shocking him but turning tears into laughter as Sean started muttering "you crazy bugger" and distracting the cameras. Sean Astin had also brought his family to Australia, and Ian was there with his long time boyfriend Nick. Karl and Harry Sinclair, along with Pete and Fran, had all shown up from New Zealand, but they all kept respectful distance when the next man approached the escapee.

"Henry!!"

Viggo's grin was a mile wide now, pulling his son into a long hug, tears flowing freely. They stood like that a moment, before Henry pulled back and gestured to his girlfriend to come over.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet someone…"

Viggo turned to Amanda, confused since he had met his son's fiancée (they had recently become engaged, according to Orlando) before. However, when he noticed the little white bundle in her arms, his eyes went wide and the tears began to flow anew.

"This is Erin," Amanda introduced, allowing Viggo to take the child in his arms. "She's just two weeks, but she insisted on coming along," the young woman joked with a grin. "Guess she really wanted to meet her grandpa."

Viggo grinned, unable to take his eyes away from the wrinkled and slightly pink little creature in his arms. "She's beautiful," he whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. "God, she's perfect…"

Unable to hold back his emotions any longer, he gingerly handed Erin back to Amanda and then turned around, grateful to find Sean still standing there, and moved to hug him again. "Cover me," Viggo whispered, and Sean understood, keeping Viggo's face hidden from the cameras as he became convulsive with sobs. Before Viggo knew exactly what was happening, Sean was leading him out of the crowded entrance hall, using his body as a shield with Orlando and Elijah on either side, and into a waiting car.

The four of them climbed into the limousine with Henry and Amanda, Orlando explaining that more cars were waiting and that everyone would meet at Hugo's large house outside of Sydney where refreshments and rest were waiting. Viggo nodded silently at the explanations, slightly embarrassed to still be letting Sean hold his face against his broad chest like a child, but grateful all the same. Cuddling up against his normally less affectionate friend, he felt safe, Elijah's hand gently rubbing his back and his family sitting less than two feet away from him. He would be okay, he realized. He was going to live to fight another day, and if he had anything to say about it, there would be a day when Erin could return home to the country where her parents were born. That thought alone gave him hope.

 

Back at Hugo's house, though the scene could hardly be described as peace and quiet, Viggo at least felt safe and very loved. Pete had been kind enough to deal with the press before leaving the airport, explaining that Viggo would most likely be happy to issue a statement in a few days but was currently recovering from the shock of imprisonment and needed some time with his family and friends. He emphasized Viggo's thanks to the Australian people and government for their sympathy with his position, and the press apparently bought it, as Pete arrived to the gathering twenty minutes later all smiles.

During the party, Viggo stuck close to the hobbits, Orlando, and Sean, though he had at least a short chat with everyone to catch up and let them know that their support would be appreciated in the fight ahead. By the time ten o clock rolled around, Viggo was feeling pretty exhausted and the crowd was beginning to thin, several people staying with Miranda or Dave and the rest in motels, leaving only Viggo, Billy and Dom, Orlando and Elijah, and Henry and Amanda to divvy up the rooms of Hugo's grown son and daughter and the numerous guest rooms. Viggo was about to excuse himself when he noticed that Elijah, sitting faithfully by his side in Orlando's lap, was growing increasingly pale. Gesturing to him when Henry and Amanda were otherwise occupied, Viggo leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Lij, you need to feed, don't you?"

"I'll be fine," he replied. "Don't you go offering."

"But…."

"I just wasn't thinking. I should've found someone at the airport, but you were our biggest concern. I'll be all right."

"Love, no offence, but I'm not sure you will be," Orlando interrupted. "Ask Dom, I'm sure Billy…"

"No, Orli. I don't want to ruffle any feathers."

"Well you don't have to _sleep_ with him, just…"

"You need to feed, don't you Lij?" Dominic asked in a low tone, picking up on their conversation.

"Yeah, but I can't…"

"It's okay. You can feed from both of us. Billy and I. He's okay with it."

"Both of you? But…"

"No shagging, loverboy. But you need to eat. We'll be all right. Come upstairs, drink your fill, and then we'll have a nice sleep. It'll be fine."

Elijah looked hesitant, but the looks that both Viggo and Orlando gave him made up his mind. "Fine, then. I'll be in your room, come up in a minute."

"Hey, do you think I can…?" Viggo paused, realizing that all three had their eyes on him. "Um, do you think maybe, I might possibly be able to…."

"Watch?" Orlando asked, cocking an eyebrow. Viggo nodded sheepishly.

"I just want to know what it's like…"

"I don't see why not," Elijah answered with a reassuring smile. "You've eaten enough?" Viggo nodded. "Okay, then I'll go up with Orli, wait for Billy and Dom, and then say your apologies. We'll see you upstairs," he promised.

 

When Viggo had said goodnight to Hugo, Holly, Henry, and Amanda, he quickly made his way upstairs and into the room that Dom and Billy were using. When he stepped inside, Elijah was explaining what would happen to Billy, who was sitting on the bed with Dom's arms around him from behind. Orlando was standing off to the side, and Viggo approached him first, smiling when Orlando motioned to the chair he was standing behind. Viggo took a seat, and Orlando leaned down, his hands on Viggo's shoulders.

"Do you have any questions, before they start?"

"Um… I don't think so. Is it going to hurt him?"

"A little, at first. But no more than a couple of needle pricks. It's been a long time since anyone's fed from me, obviously, but it's supposed to be very comforting. They'll feel sleepy almost immediately, in fact."

"And Elijah?"

"Oh, he'll just be horny," Orlando replied with a wink, and Viggo groaned jokingly as Orlando's fingers sank into his shoulders.

"Man, that's nice. It feels like forever since I've had any actual human contact." Orlando smiled and continued to gently rub as he rested his chin on Viggo's shoulder.

"Well, I'm not technically human, but anytime, Vig."

Viggo sighed happily as he watched the scene in front of them—Billy unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and pushing the collar aside, Elijah and Dom each squeezing one of his hands in reassurance, Elijah asking once more if he was sure, and then Elijah leaning in for the bite. Viggo was surprised to hear himself gasp in time with Billy as Billy's head fell back, his back arching and pressing up into the bite as Elijah held his shoulders steady, moaning slightly in pleasure against the font from which he drank. Dominic was apparently whispering nonsense into Billy's ear to calm him, and slowly his body began to relax, eyes drooping wearily.

After a minute, Elijah gently withdrew, licking the wound to close it, and lay Billy gently to the pillows, kissing his cheek and whispering "thank you." Once that was done, however, all bets were apparently off, and Elijah jumped hungrily over Billy's chest to pin Dom back to the headboard, the older man's back arching as his lips opened in a silent cry, Elijah greedily biting him and drinking his fill.

"That's why Billy went first," Orlando explained in a whisper, sounding almost amused and reminding Viggo once again of his presence. "When a vampire feeds from two people, well, the second is a lot harder to hold off of." Viggo shivered at that statement, realizing how much power both of his friends apparently held, but he knew Elijah would never do anything to hurt Dom, and Dom seemed to be enjoying himself as well, moaning slightly as he held Elijah's head to his neck, looking as if he had reached some sort of nirvana.

Orlando's hand traced comfortingly through Viggo's hair as Elijah laid Dominic down next to his lover, Billy instinctively curling up into him when he did so. "Sleep," Elijah whispered, passing one hand over each man's eyelids, and the two fell into instant slumber, Elijah rising and taking on a hungry look that Viggo knew wasn't directed at him. His cheeks were flushed rosy, his eyes flashing brighter than Viggo had ever seen them, and Orlando just chuckled, placing a kiss on Viggo's cheek before he stood.

"Have a good night," Orlando whispered, and then he was being dragged physically out of the room in a very erotic kiss, leaving Viggo to just stare at the doorway through which they had left.

Chuckling to himself, Viggo rose from the chair and walked over to the bed, pulling the covers up over his two very contented-looking friends. He considered trying to get their jeans off, as that couldn't be a comfortable way to sleep, but decided against it. Their pretzel-like position would be too hard to untangle anyway, and Viggo wasn't sure he wanted to. Instead, he pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads, turned out the light, and headed back to his own room for a long-needed rest.

 

The next morning, feeling much better after nearly twelve hours of sleep, Viggo rose to find a pair of jeans, clean boxer shorts, and a t-shirt lain out on a chair, all his size. Some new toiletries were sitting on the desk, and he smiled at his friends' efforts, indulging in a long hot shower and feeling better than he had in weeks. Once he had shaved and dressed, he came downstairs and found Holly preparing a breakfast of astronomical proportions, with Billy and Dom already sitting at the table wolfing down helpings of pancakes and eggs.

"Morning, Vig!" Dom exclaimed enthusiastically, waving a fork in Viggo's direction. Grinning, he took the seat across from Dom and laughed as a plate was immediately sat down in front of him piled high with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fruit.

"Holly, you're amazing," Viggo said, reaching for the butter and syrup. "You didn't have to do all this."

"Nonsense," she replied, returning to the stove. "You boys need your nutrients, and especially you, Viggo. I can't imagine what that God-awful place was like, but you're surely deserving of a full Australian breakfast!" she insisted, and Dom grinned, whispering to Viggo low enough that Holly couldn't hear.

"Having two pints of blood sucked out of yeh makes a man pretty hungry as well." Viggo raised an eyebrow at him, but Dom just laughed, and continued to do so as Billy tried to stick a forkful of egg in his mouth to shut him up.

"Sleep well?" Viggo turned at the voice, finding Orlando entering the kitchen with a chipper-looking Elijah in tow. He winked at Dom and Billy, and then took a seat at the table next to Viggo with Elijah sitting next to Dom.

"This food looks amazing, Holly," Elijah complimented as a plate was sat down in front of each of them.

"You actually need to…eat?" Viggo whispered in Orlando's ear as Holly and Elijah started a conversation.

"We don't have to, no. But we still enjoy good food," Orlando exclaimed. "And it's impossible to get a tummy ache," he added, grinning at Viggo as he cut his pancakes.

Viggo just rolled his eyes as Orlando tucked in like there was no tomorrow, suddenly realizing why the "young" man could eat so much without ever getting sick.

"So what's the agenda for today?"

"Today?" Orlando mumbled around a mouthful. "Today, you rest," he replied emphatically.

"Orli, there's no time to rest. I need to…"

"Shut it. We're not letting you help until you're all better."

"I feel fine…"

"Viggo, please. You may not have been there long, but… well you need to be taken care of. I'm going to check you out, your back and everything; I have some healing powers that can help. You need to eat regularly to get your system back in normal working order, and that's going to take at least a week or two. Not to mention emotional trauma…"

"Orli, I really am fine. I only care about my family, and the other people who aren't safe…"

"Vig." Orlando spoke softly but with a firm undertone, laying his hand gently atop Viggo's on the breakfast table. "I know you want to help, but there isn't much you can do yet, okay? Now Beanie's offered to stick around and keep you company here, and maybe you can talk to him about what happened… I know it's hard, but you were so close in New Zealand, I thought maybe…"

"I'll try, Orli. But I don't want to expose him to things he doesn't need to know about. I mean you know his temper, and there's nothing he can do…"

"Of course I do." Orlando grinned. "Stubborn bastards, the lot of you, and fiercely passionate, but that's why I love you. Now eat up; Sean will be here soon and I'm sure everyone else will be wanting to drop by as well. And besides, you've got a granddaughter to play with."

Viggo grinned at the reminder and followed Orlando's advice, eagerly finishing his breakfast and the second helping that Holly plunked down as soon as he had cleaned his plate. He graciously refused a third as Amanda and Henry came the stairs, the baby in Amanda's arms, and rose to meet them.

"Hello, precious. How did you sleep?" Viggo cooed, leaning over to place a kiss on the baby's forehead. Orlando and Elijah shared a grin at the way Viggo's face immediately registered a carefree happiness despite the bags under his eyes and a few visible bruises, and cleared their places at the table for Henry and Amanda to sit.

"Have some breakfast, you two. We're just going to be out for a bit," Orlando announced. "Anyone need anything?"

There was a collective shaking of heads, and Viggo waved distractedly to the couple as they headed for the door, still making baby sounds at Erin and trying to get her to grab his finger.

"Dad, c'mon. She'll still be here after breakfast. I'm hungry!"

Viggo rolled his eyes and let the two head to the table. "Henry, are you eternally destined to be a teenager?" he asked jokingly as his son sat down and immediately began tucking into breakfast. Henry just rolled his eyes, mouth too full to answer, as his wife unbuttoned her blouse a bit to breastfeed.

Dom's eyes went a little wide at the suddenly bare breast, and he quickly averted his eyes, a display which had Billy bursting into giggles. Amanda just smiled kindly and turned her chair slightly.

"I'm sorry, Dom, I didn't even think to ask if you'd be uncomfortable…"

"Oh, no, it's fine… just fine…" Billy laughed harder as Viggo patted him on the back.

"Just something you have to get used to, my friend. When Christine was nursing Henry, I remember she used to pull her t-shirt up right in the middle of a rock club in between sets… just be glad Amanda's a bit more modest."

Henry rolled his eyes, obviously not appreciating the story of his childhood, but the doorbell rang before he could comment. "I'll get it," Viggo offered, reaching the front door just as the bell rang again.

"Vig, how are you?" Sean asked when Viggo opened the door and let him in.

"Good after a nice night's rest. I hear you've volunteered as my nursemaid, hmm?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "Something like that. I just thought you might like someone, you know, watching out for you."

Viggo smiled and pulled Sean into a tight hug. "I really appreciate it," he admitted, letting himself find momentary comfort in the strong embrace.

"Hey, anything you need, Vig. I'm serious," Sean replied, pulling back a bit but not letting Viggo go just yet. "I know I haven't been the best about keeping in touch lately, and when I heard what happened…"

"Sean," Viggo whispered, noting the emotion in the other man's eyes. "It's fine, okay? There was nothing you could do. I want you happy and safe, okay?"

"Yeah, well, Orlando and Elijah obviously did something. I would have wanted to help, but they didn't contact me…"

"Sean…" Viggo broke off, realizing he really had no idea what Sean did and didn't know. "I can't tell you exactly what happened, with Orlando and Elijah, until I talk to them, but how much _do_ you know?"

Sean furrowed his brow and led Viggo by the elbow into a small sitting room away from the bustle of the kitchen. "They were vague about it… all I heard directly from Orli was that they had some contacts in the British and Australian governments and that they were helping organize a rescue, but that was after the fact. I get the feeling they're hiding something…"

Viggo sighed, sitting gingerly on the couch as his cuts and bruises became more apparent in stark contrast to the modern comforts surrounding him. "Well, there's more to the story, but like I said, I have to ask before I tell you all of it. I want to, Sean. It's just not mine to tell," Viggo explained, hoping Sean wasn't angry.

"It's… fine, Vig. Are you okay?" Sean asked, looking on with concern as he sat next to Viggo and watched the other man try to make himself comfortable.

"Yeah, I'll be all right. I'm just a bit worse for the wear, that's all." He gave Sean a weak smile, but grimaced again when his back accidentally touched a pillow. "It's fine, really. I just need to remember not to lean back till it heals."

"Till what heals, exactly? Vig, may I see? Please?"

"Sean, I don't know…" Viggo began, but Sean's fingers were already under the hem of his t-shirt at the back, giving him an inquisitive look. "All right. Just… I'm warning you…"

"Jesus," Sean hissed when he lifted the shirt and saw what was giving Viggo discomfort. His once beautifully muscled back was now crisscrossed with lines, dotted with dried blood, and welts and yellow and purple bruises discoloured most of the surface. Sean gingerly reached out to touch a cut, and Viggo jumped, cursing under his breath.

"I'm sorry, I probably missed a bit of blood when I was showering; I couldn't see…"

"Jesus, no, Viggo, don't apologise," Sean objected, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "This is… my God. Orli and Elijah didn't do anything for it?"

"They said they'd take care of me this afternoon when they get back…"

"Fuck, Vig, that's not soon enough. We've got to clean you up, and get these wounds disinfected. Come on, upstairs with you. Go lie out on your stomach with your shirt off and I'll be there in just a tic."

"Sean, I don't need…."

"Hush. I'm just going to ask Holly for some rubbing alcohol. Now up you get."

Viggo smiled weakly at Sean's protests, as he knew whatever Orlando was planning on was probably going to be more effective at healing him, but he'd play along for the moment. It was rare that Sean "mothered" anyone, and his tenderness pleasantly surprised Viggo.

After a few minutes, Sean appeared in the guest bedroom with a warm cloth and straddled Viggo's hips on the bed, gently patting the surface of his skin and trying to clean away the dried blood. "If it hurts too much tell me, but I want to get this all off if I can," he explained.

"It's fine… it's kind of soothing, actually. I haven't had much physical contact in… well, it's been a long time."

Viggo couldn't see Sean's sad smile at this admission, but he did feel Sean bend down, silently, and place a soft kiss at the nape of Viggo's neck, above the injuries. His lips lingered there, warm against Viggo's skin, and Viggo shuddered slightly at the intimacy of the touch.

"Never again," Sean promised, his lips still brushing Viggo's skin and his voice was gruff with emotion. Viggo found himself blinking back tears as Sean finished washing the blood away.

"All right, this is going to sting, I'm warning you…"

"I'm ready," Viggo replied, and tensed in preparation for the bite of hydrogen peroxide on open wounds. It didn't last long, though, and soon Sean was using a clean towel to dry him off.

"I guess I should use bandages or something, but it's so much, I don't know… maybe we could get one of those big ones to wrap around your torso or something…" Sean suggested, his voice wavering slightly. Viggo could sense his friend beginning to panic, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to fend off the creeping tug of fear building in his gut.

"It's fine," he interrupted dismissively. "I'm sure it's better to let the cuts breathe."

"If you say so." Sean shrugged. "Hey, you don't think you have any broken ribs, do you?"

Viggo shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I would know. They didn't do anything too awful, they just tied us to this wooden cross and whipped us until we were knocked out…"

"Not too awful?" Sean exclaimed, his voice raising significantly. "Viggo, listen to yourself! They flogged you into unconsciousness! I'd say that's pretty…"

"Sean." Viggo twisted his neck and grabbed Sean's wrist to pull Sean down next to him on the bed. "I know what happened, okay?" he insisted in a soft tone. "I just want to forget. Please, I… I can't think about it, or I'll lose it. I have to forget…"

"Hey now, it's okay," Sean murmured, gingerly wrapping one arm around Viggo's waist and stroking his hair with the other, all the excitement drained from his tone as he turned his focus to his friend's comfort. "I've got you, all right? You're going to be okay…"

Viggo nodded and clung to Sean, a little embarrassed but needing the contact. "God, Sean…. I don't want to be ungrateful, but it was just… I couldn't handle it there… but I know other people have it so much worse, and…"

"Hey, don't be feeling guilty, now. What they did to you was awful. If you need to talk about it…"

"No. No, Sean. I can't expose you to that."

"Why not? I want to help you, in any way I can. I've heard some pretty bad things…"

"Yeah, in history, or for a film role. This is different, Sean; this is real. I thought I was prepared for it, I mean I had months to realize what was going on. I'm well-read; I know all about torture methods and incarceration, but…"

"No one could go through that kind of pain without feeling some sort of fear or panic, Viggo. You've done remarkably well, but no one expects you to be perfect. Please let me be your sounding board. I want to help you… need, to help you."

"Because you're guilty that you weren't there first?"

"Because I love you, Vig. Okay? And don't forget that."

Viggo smiled and hid his face against Sean's chest so that the other man wouldn't see his tears. "Just… hold me a bit, okay? Do you mind?"

"Of course not."

 

A couple of hours later, Elijah and Orlando returned to find a house full of friends milling around and eating lunch. Viggo, Billy informed them, was upstairs sleeping and no one had the heart to disturb him. When they made their way upstairs to the room Viggo was staying in, both vampires smiled at finding Viggo fast asleep in Sean's arms.

"Hey, how is he?" Orlando whispered.

"Worse than he'll tell you," Sean replied. "He's been asleep for a couple of hours. I tried to take care of his back but there wasn't much I could do other than wash and disinfect it…"

"It'll be okay. I can help… actually, maybe we should wake him up; there's something Elijah and I want to tell you and then we'll take care of him."

"I'm awake," Viggo mumbled into Sean's shoulder, and Orlando smiled, ruffling his hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been better. Have a seat, I get the feeling storytelling time is going to take awhile."

Elijah snorted and Orlando just shrugged, sitting on the bed next to the other two. They proceeded to tell Sean the story of the rescue, as well as what else they had been doing in the past months. He knew that they were coordinating something, but not the extent of it, and of course, not that they were vampires. Though he was noticeably shocked, once they told the whole story it made sense, at least.

"As I explained to Viggo, we want you guys to help, of course, but there are some things that we can do that are just too risky for you. You are after all mortal," Orlando pointed out.

"And as I told you the first time, I don't care if it's risky, I want to get my country back," Viggo insisted, earning a smile from Sean and an affectionate ruffling of his hair.

"Stubborn bugger. Come on, Vig, you know they're right. And at least for now, healing is your first priority."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Sean insisted. "It's my job to look after you, and I'm going to do just that. So you might as well get used to it. You need rest, Vig, and you need to eat and wait for your wounds to heal."

"And you need to talk to someone about what happened," Orlando repeated. "I'm serious Viggo, please talk to Sean. You can't just keep it all to yourself, you know."

"Sure I can. I never was one to subscribe to therapy."

"Yes, well, Sean isn't a therapist. He's your friend," Orlando insisted.

"And vee have vays of making you talk," Elijah joked, briefly baring his fangs with a grin that was much more corny than frightening.

Viggo rolled his eyes, noticing Sean tensing up very briefly under him at the sight of Elijah's normally hidden incisors. "Fine, I'll talk to him. But don't blame me if you have nightmares," he joked weakly.

"Do you?" Sean asked, his tone soft.

"Have nightmares?" Sean nodded. "Yeah."

There was a brief silence, as it was clear that Viggo didn't want to say more, and then Elijah snapped out of it, clapping his hands together. "Well, time to get you fixed up, don't you think? Lay on your stomach, Vig, and we'll take care of these cuts."

"What do you mean, take care of?" Sean asked warily as Viggo shifted to lie down next to him.

"Relax, mom. Orli's just going to close up the fresh wounds. He can't do anything about the bruises, unfortunately, but we can use our saliva to close cuts… it's how we close the skin up when we bite."

"Oh. Is that sanitary?"

Orlando laughed as he straddled Viggo's hips and placed soothing hands on his shoulders. "Much more so than this antibacterial crap you've put on him. I'm going to need to eat about fifteen ice cream sundaes to wash the taste out of my mouth," he replied, scrunching his nose up in disgust as he leaned down to lick the cuts closed.

Viggo sighed at the warm touch, which was somewhat soothing, and Sean watched in fascination as the cuts and scratches disappeared, one by one. When Orlando was finished, Viggo was still badly bruised and his bones stuck out against his pale skin, but at least there was no more blood. Which made Sean think.

"Hey, you said you guys fed from Dom and Billy last night, right?" Orlando and Elijah nodded. "Well, do you need to feed tonight?"

"I'd like to," Orlando replied. "I didn't actually feed from them, just Lijah… I had a lot of blood during the rescue, but I'm getting a bit hungry again. Still, neither of us really need to until tomorrow."

"And who will you feed from?"

"Someone in town, most likely. We can erase their memory when it's done, so we'll just pick a couple that we can pull aside, probably."

"You can't feed from Dom and Billy again?"

"We can, sure, but we don't want to," Elijah explained.

"Why not?"

"Well they offered because I needed blood, but now that they're together we're going to stay away from it unless absolutely necessary."

"Why?"

"Well, there's a part of the feeding process we forgot to mention," Orlando explained. "See, typically… though not always… sex goes along with feeding."

"Oh."

"I mean, we don't have to, but it's nice. And since we've done that with Dom in the past, and he's with Billy now, we don't want to be tempted."

"What about strangers? Do you… bugger them?"

"Sometimes," Elijah replied. "Not every time."

"Don't you worry about…diseases?"

"Don't have to," Orlando explained. "We can't get them, and we can't carry them to other humans, either. So no worries. But we'll only have sex with a feed if they want it. I may be a vampire, but I'm not a rapist."

"I wasn't…."

"I know you weren't, Sean. But it needed to be said."

"Well… if you can't feed from Dom anymore, shouldn't you be finding someone else? You know, if you're going to go on rescue missions anymore you should bring someone in case you're somewhere you can't find another feed, right?"

"Well, yes and no," Elijah answered. "There's something you get from having a permanent feed, beyond blood. It's a connection, you know. Like we said, I was Orli's feed before he turned me…"

"Do you usually turn people you feed from?"

"No. It's very rare," Orlando replied. "I never turned anyone before Elijah, and I've had numerous permanent feeds. That's the vampire's choice, as well as the mortal's. But in answer to your first question, Viggo has offered to let us feed from him. However, there's no way we're bringing him back to the States with us. That would be much too dangerous."

"Wait a minute… you can't feed from Viggo! He's barely nourished enough himself…"

"Sean, obviously not in this state," Orlando said in a soft tone. "He offered but we said no. He should be all right in a few weeks though, physically at least."

"You know, I am still here…" Viggo mumbled into the pillow.

"Barely," Sean joked, stroking his hair affectionately. "Getting sleepy again?"

"It felt good," Viggo offered by way of explanation. "I feel much better now."

"Happy to help," Orlando replied. "You know, there are people downstairs. "Perhaps you should go down and say hello to everyone, and you can get some lunch."

"Yes, mom."

"Boy, I am five hundred and ninety five years older than you. I can tell you what to do if I want."

"Wow," Sean commented. "That's just so…weird. I mean, that you're actually older than us."

"A lot older," Elijah supplied.

"Were you twenty some odd years when you died, then? Is that why you look the way you do?" Sean asked.

"Yeah, I was twenty three. I can vary my appearance to make it look like I'm aging within a few years or so, but whenever I hit thirty or so according to other peoples' reckoning, I have to drop off the face of the earth for a while, so to speak."

"Damn. Were you planning on doing that soon?"

"Well, I wasn't planning on taking any more major film roles. I would've gone off soon, yeah. Probably to Siberia or somewhere, as it's going to be hard not to be recognized for a while now."

"Jesus, yeah," Sean realized. "You'll have to lay low for a good sixty years…"

"Eh, it's not too long in the span of a vampire's life. And I've still got Elijah, and you and Vig and Dom and Billy know. It's not too lonely. But with all that's happening now I'll have to postpone a bit. Besides, people believe what they want to. Some people just age more slowly, so they can assume that until I'm not needed anymore."

"I'll always need you," Viggo whispered, and Orlando smiled.

"Well I'll always be around for you, Vig. Nagging and all."

"Oh, wonderful."

"All right, c'mon gang. We really should go down before they think we're having a massive orgy up here," Elijah suggested.

Sean just snorted. "Well you'd clearly be getting the short end of the stick there, bottom boy."

"Hey, at least I'd be getting the end of _someone's_ stick."

"I did not just hear that…"

"Yes you did, Sean. C'mon, give me a hand up," Viggo requested. "Who's here so far?"

"Just Dave, Harry, and Karl at the moment," Orlando replied. "They're staying at Dave's, and Pete and Fran are staying at Miranda's."

"Oh, okay. I can't believe everyone came out on such short notice just to see me…"

"We've been worried sick about you," Sean replied as he walked next to Viggo in case he needed a hand on the stairs. "Elijah was the first to find out that you'd been taken, and he called Pete, who spread the word to everyone else. When we found out that you were coming to Australia, the hobbits and I got on a flight straight from London as soon as we could, and the others from New Zealand."

"Well, you didn't have to…"

"Didn't have to what?"

Viggo turned and found Karl standing near the foot of the stairs with a gleam in his eye and a broad smile as he rounded the corner.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Viggo, giving him a tight hug but loosening his grip a bit when Viggo tensed and Sean glared.

"I'm all right… just a bit sore," Viggo explained with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," Karl apologized. "Didn't realize."

"Don't worry about it. Haven't been getting a lot of hugs lately; it's appreciated," Viggo pointed out with a smile. Sean frowned slightly over his shoulder at the admission, but Viggo didn't notice.

"Well come have some lunch and get some more hugs!" Karl insisted. "Dave and Harry are here, too."

"Excellent." Sure enough, when they set foot in the kitchen Harry and Dave were quick to offer affection and well wishes, and soon after Miranda showed up with Pete and Fran in tow, Sean and Christine also close behind. Ally Astin, now a beautiful blonde teenager, and her eleven-year-old little sister, both wanted to hear all about what was going on at home, but Sean urged them not to bother Viggo, and while he wasn't annoyed by the girls he didn't really want to tell them the truth. Both had friends back in California from whom they hadn't heard, and Viggo didn't want to point out that no one was really able to make overseas contact right now without the danger of the government listening in, nor was there any guarantee that the girls' friends were safe.

Aside from the political prisons like the one Viggo had been housed in, some churches had been conducting "community raids," especially in conservative areas with a strong evangelical presence. Work camps were also set up where protesters and others, especially registered Democrats with some history of activism, could be shipped with their families to build new prisons or other facilities. Of course, he wouldn't mention any of these details to the girls.

Instead, Viggo mingled with the guests and reminisced on old times, eating a delicious home-cooked lunch and spending most of the afternoon in good spirits. He did notice that Sean remained at his back throughout the day, however, providing a quiet but comforting presence. Being around other people didn't make Viggo nervous, exactly, but it was still nice to have strong and silent Sean sitting next to him, there for support if he needed it. He also noticed, however, that Orlando and Elijah kept ducking out and whispering to each other, or taking mysterious calls on their mobiles. After a while, when everyone else was engaged in conversation, he grabbed Sean's wrist and led him to the kitchen where Orlando and Elijah were conversing.

"What's up, guys? I get the feeling something's going on."

Orlando smiled and patted Viggo's shoulder. "Nothing gets by you, huh? Well, I guess the short story is that a revolution waits for no man… or vampire. Elijah and I are trying to coordinate with our associates, both to rescue more prisoners and to try to start some resistance on the ground."

"Revolution? Resistance? You're trying to turn this around already?" Viggo asked, looking a bit bewildered.

"Every day more people are put in danger, Vig," Orlando explained softly. "We have to make sure people know what's happening. The media is blocked to us, so it's an underground movement, but there are people spreading the word throughout the country."

"Vampires?" Sean asked.

"For the most part, no," Orlando replied. "There aren't that many vampires in the world, and only a few in North America."

"Then who?" Viggo asked.

"Anyone we can find who's willing to take a risk and exert some leadership," Elijah explained. "It's risky, but it's the best we can do. We're also trying to coordinate foreign support, especially from expatriates who are willing to donate time and money to the cause. That's where you two will come in."

"When you're better, Vig," Orlando added in a stern tone.

"We think that the exposure from having a famous escaped prisoner tell people what's really going on could be beneficial," Elijah explained. "A lot of the expats living in Australia and Britain, was well as elsewhere, got out before things really got bad. They don't know exactly what's going on, and the same applies to foreign governments, once the embassies got yanked."

"Well I'm happy to do anything I can, as I told you," Viggo agreed.

"Same here," Sean added.

"We'll keep you posted, I promise," Orlando agreed.

"So now what?" Viggo asked.

"Now you heal." Orlando smiled and gave Viggo a firm pat on the back, and then tossed a significant look in Sean's direction.

"Right you are," Sean confirmed, giving Viggo's shoulder a gentle but firm squeeze. "We'll help when we can," he promised, his tone soft. Viggo nodded, resigned but knowing Sean was unlikely to budge.

"As soon as we can," Viggo insisted.

"Of course."

 

July 4th, 2011.

After a week of Holly's food and Sean's support, Viggo was doing considerably better. He had applied for refugee status in the UK and for a new Danish passport to arrive when he returned to Europe. As soon as that all went through he and Sean would be returning together to Sean's home in London, along with Orlando and Elijah, where a lot of the resistance was centred and where Viggo could make an appearance on BBC World once he was ready to appear again in public.

Already though, news of the escape had travelled the world, and the Australian and international media were requesting interviews. At Sean's insistence, Viggo promised that he would grant as many as possible an audience in a few weeks, when he was well, but in the meantime had a statement issued directing anyone who might want to lend support to a website Elijah had set up for the resistance overseas and urging all sympathizers to keep an ear out for more information on what they could do to help.

Almost everyone who didn't live in Australia in the first place had gone home, including Dom and Billy who were going to be talking to the BBC themselves and doing some work coordinating anyone they could in the UK before the others arrived. Orlando, Elijah, Viggo's family, and Sean were therefore the only ones still staying over the 4th of July, and everyone was now staying with Hugo and Holly.

Holly had been careful when mentioning the date to Viggo, as she didn't want to remind him of the situation at home, but he insisted that it be cause for celebration, because as long as they kept doing what they were doing, at least some Americans would be free. It was a bit chilly out to barbeque, but there was a party indoors and true to form, Holly cooked enough food for a small army.

"Are there any more veggie burgers?" Orlando asked, peering around Hugo's shoulder at the stovetop grill he had set up.

"A couple," Hugo replied, turning to smile at Orli. "You know kid, one of these days your metabolism is going to catch up with you."

"Nah," he disagreed with a wide grin, taking another burger and piling it high with fixings. "Don't think so."

Viggo just rolled his eyes as Orli returned to the loveseat he was sharing with Elijah. "Not eating red meat again?"

Orlando shrugged. "'S good for the environment."

Sean rolled his eyes. "Vegetarian vampire. I'm pretty sure there's something hypocritical in there."

"Nah. I don't kill people when I drink their blood," Orlando reasoned.

"Comforting, that," Sean replied, though he shivered slightly at the thought.

"Will be nice to get back to London," Elijah reasoned. "Easier to find a feed."

"You know I…" Viggo started, but Orlando held up a hand.

"When we get there, maybe. If I'm sure you're okay. But think about it, Vig. The Red Cross won't even let you donate blood if you have a bloody cold."

"I guess you're right." Viggo was silent for a moment, and then sat up in his chair, getting a thought. "Hey, there's satellite TV here, right?"

Orlando raised an eyebrow. "Yes…"

"We should watch one of the American networks."

"What? Why?" Sean broke in, looking surprised.

"Because it's the morning of the 4th there," Viggo reasoned. "The President is going to make an address."

"Um, Vig…" Orlando said softly. "Do you really want to watch that?"

"Keep your enemies closer, Orlando. If there are any hints in there, we should see them."

"I guess." Orlando shrugged and grabbed the remote. Sean stood silently from his chair and moved to stand behind Viggo's, his hands resting on Viggo's shoulders and squeezing as Orlando tuned into ABC and, sure enough, the Presidential address that was just starting.

"Good morning, my fellow Americans, and a happy fourth of July to you all." Elijah snorted, but the others stayed silent as he continued. "Today is indeed a glorious day. Today we celebrate freedom and independence, not just from the ancient yoke of British oppression and the more recent yoke of European co-dependence, but from the movements and influences that have poisoned our great society for nearly a hundred years."

"Oh Jesus Christ," Elijah muttered.

"Shh," Orlando whispered, elbowing him gently.

"Fifty years ago, our country was in great danger. Liberal and socialist movements threatened, the so-called "hippie" generation threatened, and family values were being attacked from all sides. Protestors and anti-American elements in society contributed to a nation so polluted by factional interests that we could not win a simple war against a small, backwards Eastern country tainted by communism. But not today, my friends. Today, America is strong."

"Fucking _idiot_," Elijah murmured, and this time no one shushed him.

"I have here on my desk a list of over three thousand suspected terrorists, anti-American demonstrators, and anti-Christian extremists who have been peacefully purged from our country and our government, but my friends, our task is not yet complete. I urge each and every one of you, in the name of the freedom so dearly bought that this proud day represents, to seek out those in your neighbourhoods and communities who would seek to corrupt your children, pollute your values, and overthrow your government. Do not stand by and idly accept these foreign-driven and foreign-funded criminals. Do not feel that they have a Constitutional right to act in devious, underhanded ways. Justice and the Constitution are on your side, on the side of Americans who love this country and this flag as I do, and your government will stand behind you as you report suspicious persons and activities to your local law enforcement officials and special commissions, more of which are being set up in target communities even as I speak to you today. This country is strong, and it will not submit to cowardice or foreign influence. United we stand, and divided we fall. I ask you, my fellow Americans, to stand with me today in the name of freedom and justice. God bless you all, and God bless America."

"Bloody hell," Orlando muttered as he hit the power button. "He's got to be bloody joking."

"Unfortunately, no," Viggo replied in a soft tone, grateful for Sean's hands still kneading his shoulders. "That's the kind of shit you hear every day at home. This is the worst I've heard it explicitly stated, but I'm not surprised. Twisted history and special commissions is pretty much what we're reduced to."

"Well, it makes our task harder, but not impossible. It's a big country, and not everyone there is an idiot," Orlando reasoned. "He might be just as bad as Hitler or Stalin, but he's not stupid. He won't provoke the entire world to war, and that's what'll happen if he goes too far. I think he knows that."

"I'm not so sure," Viggo replied. "War isn't going to help our case at all. No one's going to _want_ to go home if there isn't a home to go to. We've got to look for a peaceful solution."

"If there is one," Sean muttered.

"I have to believe there is," Viggo argued. "It's worked before. Might not be the quickest or the easiest, but it's better than war. There are people who don't side with the President, and even more people who don't really want to but feel they have no choice. If we give them a banner to march under, even underground at first, we can beat this."

"I had an idea, actually," Elijah spoke up.

"What's that?" Viggo asked.

"Well, I think all these little commissions, and these evangelical squads, are doing a lot of their operations through the Internet. Communications, recruiting, sometimes funding. I'm pretty good with computers, and I have some contacts… we might be able to cut off their communication, little by little, or even send mixed messages, get them completely disorganized so their little watchdog efforts get fucked over."

"What about the prisons?" Viggo suggested. "The special detainment centres, like Alcatraz… can you mess with their computer systems, too? Fuck up their records, maybe?"

"Not sure," Elijah replied, furrowing a brow. "Depends on how much of it is online. Things are increasingly isolated now, you know, with the government trying not to depend on any foreign resources…"

"But it's not completely lost to us yet?"

"No," Elijah agreed. "And the country's huge, I mean the branches of government have to use the Internet to some extent, at least on a higher level."

"All right," Viggo replied. "Then that's a start. We can get as many people as we can find who are good at computers, especially at hacking and code breaking. See if they can't at least slow things down."

Orlando smiled and reached out to squeeze Viggo's knee. "Can't keep you out of this stuff for long, can I?"

Viggo smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Not really."

"It's not a complaint, really. I don't want you trying to physically go back to the States, not while you're so visible, but I think you can do a lot with coordinating things over here, once we get to London. I promise I'll quit mothering you soon."

"Keep in mind that only goes for him, though," Sean broke in after Orlando, causing Viggo to smile and reach up to squeeze one hand.

"Sean, somehow the last role I can see you in is a motherly one."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Please do," Viggo replied with a smile, and Orlando covered his own laugh with the back of his hand.

 

July 7th, 2011. Night.

"I'm fucking scared, Sean."

Sean turned, surprised, and just looked at Viggo for a long moment, standing in the window with his brandy in one hand, watching the quiet street and the oncoming storm. He was beautiful, anyone could see that, but even the realization caught Sean by surprise and made something tight rise in his throat.

"What are you afraid of?"

He was silent for another long pause, and Sean waited patiently, sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, giving Viggo time. He could see the barely visible tremor in Viggo's muscles, the way his hand shook just a bit, hanging at his side. It worried him, but Viggo didn't need to hear that.

"Leaving. I… I know I need to, but…"

"You're afraid you won't get to England safely."

Viggo nodded slowly, and Sean stood and gently took the drink from his hand, wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, and rested his chin on Viggo's shoulder. He was tense for a moment, and then he relaxed fully into Sean's arms, sighing and tilting his head back as his eyes fell shut.

"It's irrational…"

"That's all right."

Viggo bit his lip, shaking his head, reaching up and jamming the heels of his hands in his eyes. Sean didn't let go.

"It's not all right, I… people have it so much worse…"

"They hurt you, Viggo. They took away everything that was left, took away your home, and they frightened you. Doesn't matter if it's four days or twenty, they managed to get under your skin, and there is nothing to be ashamed of. I wouldn't have done any better, none of us would," Sean insisted, his tone fierce, his arms still tight around Viggo's body, holding him up.

"But of course you would've. You're strong, Sean…"

"Viggo, you've always been one of the strongest men I know," Sean whispered, and Viggo was taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. Slowly, he nodded and then turned in Sean's arm, reaching up to touch his face with a gentle hand.

"I thought I would never see you again," he admitted in a soft tone, stroking Sean's cheek. "I don't mean to be so clingy, but… I thought I would never get to touch any of you again, to hug you, to laugh at your jokes… I resigned myself to that fact, but that doesn't mean I wasn't scared. And now… Sean if they get a hold of me, they'll torture me slowly, not for information, but for revenge—and then they'll kill me."

Sean frowned, and then slid his hands up between them, up Viggo's chest between his arms and to either side of Viggo's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Vig, I would _never_ let that happen."

"But you can't guarantee…"

"Bullshit," Sean protested. "Orlando could get you out, Elijah could get you out, and I'd die trying to get you out…"

"No," Viggo interrupted, shaking his head fiercely. "You have to promise me, Sean. I want you safe…"

"I want _you_ safe."

Viggo laughed and lowered his head to rest against Sean's chest, his arms falling to Sean's waist.

"We're a right pair, aren't we?" Sean said, smiling, kissing the top of Viggo's head.

"There are going to be risks, Sean. I know that. Even from England, we're going to be visible, and they're going to target us. They might target our families even. They may not be able to reach us physically, but they can discredit us, discredit this movement. We have to fight, though. What other choice do we have, you know? And there's only so much protection we can offer each other."

"I know that, Vig. But I'm a stubborn bastard, aren't I? You've said it enough times yourself."

"Only because I love you, Sean. I'll always count myself lucky for having had that chance."

Sean looked at Viggo for a long while, really looked at him, and then he gathered him into a bone-crushing hug, refusing to let go even as the tears began to fall. Viggo had never seen Sean cry, even through the divorce with Melanie and losing his house and all the other hard times in their past together, but he didn't comment.

"Love you too, you daft bastard," Sean mumbled, and Viggo smiled. Tomorrow was a new day.

 

July 20th, 2011. Afternoon.

"So I guess this is it," Hugo said with a smile, standing from his seat in the first-class lounge as the British Airways flight to London was announced. "I'll be seeing you all soon, though."

"We'll look forward to it," Viggo replied, smiling and pulling Hugo into a hug. The scene was a bit like that of a month ago, only with fewer tears and fewer people—only Hugo, Holly, Dave and Miranda were there to see Viggo and his family off, along with Sean, Elijah, and Orlando. "Thank you for everything, both of you," Viggo offered as he lifted an arm to pull Holly into the hug as well. "I can't imagine what I'd have done without you."

"Don't think anything of it," Holly insisted. "It was just a roof over your heads."

"And food to eat, and privacy, and love. Seriously, Holly, thank you."

She smiled and nodded. "Well then, boys. Be off with you. Best to get the baby settled in before the coach class starts boarding."

Reluctantly, Viggo nodded, and the group of them followed the airline staff member to the gate, Viggo tightly gripping Sean's hand. It was hard to tell this time which of them was more frightened by the prospect of thirty hours of air travel, but no one dared separate them.

"Hey, Vig?" Sean asked as they walked down the ramp to the jet.

"Yeah?"

"You know, when we're in London, that my house is your house, right? For as long as you need—it's your home."

Viggo smiled and squeezed Sean's hand. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"In this together, yeah?"

Viggo sighed and squeezed Sean's hand, taking a deep breath before he stepped onto the plane. "Of course."

 

"Well, here it is," Sean announced as he turned the key in the latch and held the door to his house open for Viggo. It was morning in England, and the angle of the sun made his tired eyes sparkle despite the bags underneath. "Home sweet fucking home."

Viggo laughed and left his suitcase in the living room, looking around. "Show me a bed right now and I'll fucking marry you, Sean."

"Oi, now. Not even going to give a lad a ring?" Sean replied, laughing as he led the way down the hall. "Here, this is you. I'm going to shower and crash as well, but let me know if you need anything."

"All right. Give me six hours to sleep and then I'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Hope so. I'm not the one who offered to cook Orlando and Elijah dinner for this planning meeting. You do realize that kid eats like a horse."

"He's a vampire. He won't care what I feed him."

"Are we talking about the same Orlando, mate?"

"Eh, don't worry about it. I'll run to the store and get some noodles, make pad Thai. That'll keep him happy."

"Fair enough. Sleep well then."

"Yeah, you too. After that flight, you've fucking earned it."

Sean grinned and nodded. "Right you are. Are you okay?"

Viggo frowned at the suddenly gentle tone in Sean's voice, and the serious look in his eyes.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, erm… it's just a month. Today. Since you were taken. Almost a month since you got rescued."

Viggo went still for a moment, and then nodded, slowly. "I'm fine. And I didn't 'get' rescued, Sean. Orlando and Elijah rescued me. That makes a difference, you know."

Sean nodded. "Yeah. Just wish it were me."

Viggo wasn't sure what to say to that, and so he nodded and leaned in and kissed Sean on the cheek before heading to the guest room. "You've done a lot, Sean. Remember that."

 

July 21st, 2001. Afternoon.

"Jesus Christ, Elijah. This is fucking impressive."

Elijah grinned at Viggo over the computer screen. "Thanks. I just did some tinkering, you know…"

"No, seriously. You've already got thousands of people committed to this?"

"In varying degrees, yeah. Funding, logistics support, a few brave souls on the inside. Of course we have to have everyone checked out, and that takes time…"

"But still. This is a big step."

Orlando grinned and tugged Elijah to his side, the dining room chair scraping on the wood flooring. "I'm fucking proud of him."

Elijah blushed and Viggo smiled at them. "So everything's set up with the BBC, then?"

"Yeah, you're all good to go," Orlando replied. "Fortunately, the one good thing about your country's isolationist attempts is that they're only putting half an eye on the foreign media. Chances are they won't take much stock in your call for aid. The President's overconfident, and so's most of the federal government. I think they underestimate the power that a real international force could bring from underneath."

"Not to mention how many US citizens are still living abroad," Elijah interjected. "I mean you've got peaceful, non-interventionist kinds of people who left before all this, who still have American passports. The government hasn't really focused on their influence, but they could have contacts at home, and might even be able to get back if they're willing, slip under the radar—those who aren't too politically active at least."

"Okay. What's the strategy, then? I mean we're amassing money, technology, trying to hurt the government's computer systems, but what do we do once all this succeeds, assuming it does? Are we going for impeachment?"

Orlando frowned. "I think we have to think bigger than that. Congress is pretty damned afraid, and impeachment offers no viable alternatives. Your President's smart—he's put a lot of his own people in upper-level positions."

"He's not _my_ fucking President," Viggo growled, with more venom in his tone than usual. "I didn't fucking vote for him."

Orlando looked a bit taken aback for a moment, and then he grinned. "Exactly. You didn't vote for him—therein lies the key."

"Don't think I follow…"

"The country's too fucking big to keep _all_ the dissenters silent. And you have a Constitution for a reason. Now remind me again, gentlemen, what year do we have coming up?"

"2012?" Sean volunteered, looking puzzled.

"Very good. And what, my friends, is 2012?"

"An election year…" Viggo replied, a smile coming slowly to his face.

"Exactly. Of course, that gives the President more than a year to break the system down, to keep the election from happening or at least just conduct it as a technicality with no alternatives, but we're not going to let that happen. We're going to provide funding and support for anyone who's willing to stand up against him. We're going to put the spotlight on the President. We're going to target any member of Congress who's willing to follow the turning tides against him, and then we're going to watch his glass house crumble. I'm not saying we impeach the President, I'm saying we bring him to the Hague."

"For crimes against humanity?" Viggo asked. "I mean, that was a pipe dream with Bush, but…"

"Face it, Vig. This is much worse than Bush. I'm saying we shake things up in the country, but at the same time, let's go to the UN. Let's provide hard evidence of torture, civil rights violations, discrimination, even small-scale genocide. If we show them what's happening we won't need to wait for an election."

"But isn't the UN rather notorious for getting nothing done?" Sean pointed out.

"Sure, but let's give them a chance. It's never _been_ like this before. If the US opens fire on peacekeeping troops, well something tells me the Europeans and the Australians and even the bloody Canadians are going to be knocking on the door pretty bloody quick, if you catch my meaning."

Viggo nodded. "It's not a bad idea. If they can get the President, the Vice President, certain members of the Cabinet…"

"The alternative might not be great, but it's a cult of personality. The President's surrounded himself with his puppets but he's like any dictator—I don't think he trusts anyone other than himself. He's paranoid. There's no one in the chain of command with the same kind of pull, with the ability to run the country. If we manage that much it's only a matter of time. The public will stand behind an alternative; right now they're just afraid. And then Congress can conduct an investigation, get some of these loony tunes 'committee' members behind bars."

"And make the country safe for our kids again," Viggo added quietly.

Sean smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "That's what the goal is, Vig."

"Well then. Let's get cracking."

 

August 1st, 2011. BBC News evening broadcast.

"Good evening, citizens of the world. I speak to you tonight not as an actor, or an artist, or a celebrity, but as an American, and as a human being. Many of you have heard whispers about what is going on in the United States as we speak, and many have heard rumours. Tonight I come before you to confirm those rumours, and to give you some taste of the truth, so that you might spread it among your friends, and your neighbours, and your colleagues. Tonight, America needs your help, as does the world, as does humanity. History often repeats itself, and the repetition can be tragic, but together we can prevent more thoughtless murders, more acts of intolerance, and more crimes against humanity.

"Shortly after the eleventh of September, 2001, many world leaders appeared before the media to say 'we are all Americans.' Tonight, I am not asking you to pretend that you are an American, but to acknowledge that Americans are humans, and no matter how many wrongs our country may have committed against you under the banner of its government, and no matter how much you may have disagreed with us in the past, and may still disagree, America is a country founded on that right to disagree, and we live and die by that right. Over the past three years, that right has been taken away from us, and I refuse to stand idly by and not only watch a country fall, but watch countless lives be lost because American citizens are brave enough to stand up for their beliefs.

"There have been many rumours about my own incarceration at the hands of my government, and tonight I would like to tell you what I know. Two years and nine months ago, the current President of the United States was elected on a platform of family values and a more intelligent brand of the 'compassionate conservativism' George W. Bush made famous. However, this man's tenure in office has revealed nothing resembling compassion. Early in his Presidency, even as he won over the hearts of the American people through clever rhetoric and appealing to the fears of the 'average American,' dissenting government officials and journalists were pulled out of their homes and mysteriously 'relocated.' Records pertaining to these persons were stored in a Top Secret file, inaccessible to their families. We have reason to believe that many of these people were killed, and others tortured at Guantanomo Bay and other, newer facilities built in the American Midwest and West, in remote locations not disclosed to the public.

"A year into this President's reign, some controversial new appointments were made. New committees were formed for ambiguous purposes relating to national security and 'family values,' sometimes simultaneously. Though questions arose with regards to these appointments, the President soon diverted attention with an address to the nation, the debut of the infamous 'blacklists' that appeared to many of us eerily similar to those lists referenced by Senator Joseph McCarthy—lists which, you may recall, were exaggerated and in some cases blatantly fabricated.

"Shortly before my escape from the country, aided by the generosity of the British and Australian governments, the situation was dire. Community watch organizations were targeting individuals based on religion, sexual preference, political affiliation, and even the colour of their skin, often in blatant violation of US laws and local ordinances which were summarily ignored or systematically stricken from the books. Those who openly questioned law enforcement officials for not acting to stop these organizations were often blacklisted or locked up themselves. The media was, when I left, almost completely controlled by the government, and many organizations were denied funding and shut down for vague 'national security reasons.'

"As for my own situation, I will disclose the facts and let you be the judge of whether or not my treatment at the hands of my country was fair. I hold citizenship in two nations. I have a Danish and an American passport. I was blacklisted in June for political involvement in open resistance of the President, and for smuggling obscene works of art out of the country—my own artwork, which incidentally was judged obscene without ever being seen by a government official, as far as I know, and most of which is rather abstract and not clearly controversial. For these offences, my American passport was revoked. New immigration and travel laws would make it impossible to travel using my Danish passport, for any foreign citizen leaving or entering the country is now detained and questioned extensively, and any blacklisted individual whether American or foreign is forbidden to leave at all.

"On the twenty-first of June, I was forcibly removed from my California home by federal officials. I was transported in the back of a prison van, handcuffed and blindfolded, to San Francisco. From there, I was relocated with excessive violence to a police boat in San Francisco Bay. At the time, I was unaware of my location, but upon escaping I determined that the facility in which I was held is indeed a newly built complex on Alcatraz Island, erected on the foundations of the infamous former prison. I was brought to a holding cell that night, approximately four feet long and three feet wide. The ceiling was only four feet high, so that it was impossible to stand up or lay down, and there was no toilet, only a small hole in the corner. The cell was made of concrete and the door was metal with an intricate locking system. My clothing was removed and I was slapped, punched, and kicked repeatedly before the officials left that night. The cell was kept unnaturally cold, perhaps five to ten degrees Celsius, and there was no food or water offered.

"The next day, I was taken to a room in another wing of the complex. Again I was handcuffed and blindfolded, and beaten by guards until my blindfold was removed and I was made to face an official of the facility. This man wore a cross around his neck, and though I do not know his name I presume that he is an official in one of the renegade Christian organizations that work now in close cooperation with the federal government. This man ordered me restrained to a wooden cross on one wall of the room, opposite a wall of what looked to be one-way glass. I was then whipped by one of the guards numerous times; I lost count after twenty lashes. I was periodically given a break so that I would remain conscious, and the leader asked me questions about my friends and political activities, which I refused to answer. At the same time, he demanded that I repent for my sins, and threatened more severe punishment and torture until I relented, informing me that others had died this way already. Throughout the four-day period of captivity I was subjected to several sessions of this nature, each lasting a few hours until I lost consciousness and was returned to my cell. I was not fed during this period, and was given water only occasionally, presumably to keep me alive for the torture.

"I realize that many of you may suspect exaggeration, or inability to remember the truth of what happened due to the conditions in which I was kept. Others of you may feel that I am telling the truth, but that my anger makes me irrational in my call for action. This may be true, however, the people who are running my country as we speak are not rational men. I have no way of knowing the current situation, but I can only surmise that it is the same or worse. Tonight I ask you all, as citizens of the world, to help your fellow man in whatever way you are able. Even if this is only moral support, or telling others what you have heard tonight, please do what you can. I never thought I would see the day when it was not safe for my children or my granddaughter to return to their country, or where many of my friends are presumed dead or missing. Tonight, I ask you to make any effort that is in your power to contribute to our cause, in whatever way you deem possible. My fondest hope that is on the tenth anniversary of September 11th, we can come together once more and bring a cruel dictator who parades in the name of democracy to justice. United we stand, and divided we fall. In the past few weeks, we have put together a non-profit international organization to organize this aid effort, and I urge you to visit its website at oneworld.co.uk—you can find our specific mission there, as well as news and information on how you can contribute. For those of you in London, you can also visit our headquarters at 191 Tottenham Court Road, and anyone interested in contributing financially can send a check to One World Relief Effort at that address. Thank you for your time, and good night."

 

August 15th, 2011.

"Yo, Viggo, what's your twenty?"

"Jesus, Elwood. I'm beginning to think these walkie-talkies were a bad idea."

"Oh shut up. Long range, off a cellular network—they're much more secure. Now what's your twenty, man?"

"I'm in a waiting room at the UN. Place is kind of crazy now with the New York headquarters out of commission."

"Yeah, I know. But you're going to get to talk with someone?"

"Yeah, they're going to talk to me about an emergency meeting. Might even be able to take action by October."

"Yeah? That's great news!"

"I know. Of course, it's bending all sorts of rules to just let me talk, and the Americans won't send a delegation, but we're probably going to be able to get through it on a loophole. I've talked to the Danish Ambassador to the UK and he thinks the Danish delegation will allow me to speak on their behalf."

"Sweet. Wait, does that mean you have to give the address in Danish?"

"No, you idiot. But someone's gotta write the thing."

"Um, you?"

"Yeah, well… can you get someone else to collaborate on this? Someone with credentials, preferably?"

"Right. I'm on it. Good luck with your meeting."

"Muchas gracias. Give Orli my love."

"Will do."

 

August 17th, 2011. Evening.

"I don't fucking believe it. David Sedaris. He got me David Sedaris."

Sean laughed and pushed the cutting board full of chopped onions into the pan Viggo was stirring the heck out of.

"You asked for credentials."

"Well yeah, but David Sedaris…"

"David Sedaris _and_ that Clinton speechwriter, and Christiane Amanpour. I think it'll be one hell of a writing team, if you want my opinion."

"Who says I do?"

Sean grinned. "Wanker."

"Prat."

"And yet you love me anyway."

"Bastard." Viggo smiled, shaking some salt and pepper into his concoction and then turning to kiss Sean briefly on the lips. "Yeah, I do."

Sean laughed and shook his head and went to the other room with his mobile phone.

"Hey Orli, Vig's making a big pot of some Argentinean stew thing. You two coming over?"

 

"Man, that was fucking amazing, Vig," Orlando groaned happily later that night, collapsing onto the couch with his hands over his belly as Elijah leaned on his shoulder. "Make a bloke wish that food was the only thing he needed to eat."

Viggo laughed and raised his wine glass, lowering himself into a chair across from them. "Thanks. So do you need to go, I guess?"

"Yeah, in a few. Brilliant as that was, I'm still kind of starved for the other," Orlando admitted with a shy smile.

"Both of you?"

Elijah nodded. "Yeah, unfortunately. Hate to eat and run."

"Hey, wait. I have an idea."

Orlando raised an eyebrow. "Last time you had an 'idea,' Vig, I ended up naked in your studio with a fig leaf spray-painted bright blue over my bits."

"What?!"

Sean's shout prompted Elijah to collapse in convulsive laughter, and Viggo just turned to Sean with a lopsided grin. "Guy's gotta have _some_ secrets."

"Jesus, I so didn't want to know…"

Viggo rolled his eyes, gave Sean a pat on the head, and turned back to Orlando. "Seriously. I'm all healed up. Whadya say?"

Orlando raised an eyebrow again, and Eljiah fell silent. "You're offering?"

Viggo nodded, and gestured vaguely to his neck with one hand. "All yours."

"Vig, I don't want to make you…"

Viggo raised a hand, effectively cutting Orlando off, and reached over the coffee table to put a hand on his knee. "I want you to."

"Really?"

Viggo nodded. "Though… Sean, you'll stay?"

Sean tilted his head to the side, looking curiously at Viggo. "You want me to?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind, um… hold my hand or something?"

Sean smiled softly and reached out, giving the back of Viggo's neck a squeeze. "Of course. If that's what you want."

"I do. Can you both… I mean… is there enough…?"

"Is there enough blood for both of us to feed?" Orlando prompted gently.

"Yeah."

"We can each take enough for a day and you'll be no worse for the wear. Unless Sean…?"

Sean shook his head quickly, going a little pale. "Erm, no, if it's all the same to you…"

Orlando smiled and reached out, putting a hand on Sean's thigh and shaking his head. "Never without your consent, Beanie. I don't ever want you to be afraid of me. Okay?"

Sean nodded, looking a little relieved. "Yeah, okay."

"But it won't bother you, um… seeing it?" Viggo asked, looking a little embarrassed.

"What that? Nah," Sean replied, shaking his head emphatically. "Must admit I'm a bit curious but… I don't like needles so, you know… same idea."

Viggo laughed loudly at that. "All right. My room, then? Comfier."

Orlando shrugged. "Fine with us."

In Viggo's room, they settled in on the bed with Elijah on one side and Orlando on the other, Sean sitting on the side of the bed and reaching across Elijah's lap to hold Viggo's hand. Viggo thought for a moment that maybe Sean needed more comfort than he did, until the other two were about to bite and Sean suddenly stood up, letting go of Viggo's hand.

"Sod it… for the love of Christ, this is ridiculous… shove over, 'Lijah…"

And so Elijah stood up, bewildered, as Sean slid in behind Viggo and tugged him backwards to sit between Sean's legs, leaning back against his chest.

"There we are. Now, go on then."

Viggo rolled his eyes and leaned back, looking at Orlando and then Elijah.

"Go ahead. I'm ready as I'll ever be."

Orlando nodded and squeezed Viggo's hand, smoothing his other hand over Viggo's forehead.

"You're positive you want to do this?" Orlando asked in a gentle tone.

"Yes."

"Okay. Just relax then, Vig."

"Easier said that done," Viggo murmured, though he was smiling. Sean tugged him tighter to his chest, and Viggo did his best to relax in Sean's arms as the other two leaned in and simultaneously slid sharp fangs into the jugular at either side.

The initial prick was sharp but quick, and after a gasp and a slight jerk into the hands of his friends, holding him down, Viggo relaxed into the odd suckling sensation on each side of his neck, and Sean murmuring wordless comfort into his ear. He'd never tell Sean this, but his friend had quite a maternal instinct, and it worked wonders in combination with the strange sensation the vampires' bites were evoking. He felt as if he was floating, all worries and reservations drifting away like a drag from a really good joint, and he moaned lightly as his limbs felt heavier and heavier.

It only lasted a minute or two, and when it was over he felt limp and comfortable, Sean's strong forearms crossed at his chest grounding him as Orlando and Elijah withdrew and licked the bite marks closed. He was vaguely aware of the two vampires grabbing at each other and dragging one another out of the room in their post-feeding lustful frenzy, but he didn't really care, sighing happily and wriggling again Sean.

"Mmm… 's good," he murmured.

"Yeah… erm… maybe I should go now…" Sean replied, and Viggo caught a hint of hesitation in his voice, an edge of doubt that he registered even through the happy haze he was submerged in. "If you're all right." Viggo frowned, and then realised just what he was wriggling his arse against without thinking about it. _Oh._ He frowned again, but for some reason, it felt right, and he didn't even mind that detail, just burrowing further against Sean's chest and shaking his head.

"Stay," he mumbled. "You feel good."

Sean tensed a bit, and for a second Viggo thought he was going to refuse, but then he slid down a bit, pulling the blanket over them both. "All right," he agreed, "For just a bit."

"Okay," Viggo mumbled, snuggling up and drifting off happily to sleep.

 

"Mm… where am I?" Viggo mumbled as he slowly came to consciousness the next morning, feeling a warm body curled up behind him. "What day is it?"

The warm body started, and then relaxed, and then sighed, sounding worried. "Tuesday. Vig, do you remember…?"

Sean, then. Viggo blinked for a second, and then remembered the events of the previous evening. "Shit, yeah, I do. Sorry, was I too…?"

"You weren't anything," Sean interrupted quickly. "It was my fault, I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay, Sean, really. It doesn't bother me."

"I just… I mean they bit you, and it was so bloody _beautiful_, and you were all moaning and wriggling against me like; I couldn't help…"

Viggo turned and opened his eyes fully, offering Sean a soft smile. "You thought I was beautiful?"

Sean blushed a deep pink and bit his lip, looking suddenly interested in the seam of the blanket. "Erm, yeah…"

"Don't be embarrassed," Viggo murmured, reaching out to squeeze Sean's shoulder. "It's a high compliment coming from you."

Sean gave Viggo a confused look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Viggo laughed and leaned back against the pillows again. "Just don't hear you call guys beautiful all that often. You must have meant it."

"Oh," Sean replied, frowning. "I do."

"Okay." Viggo smiled and kissed Sean's cheek. "C'mon. We've got work to do."

 

August 25th, 2011. Afternoon. One World Relief Effort Headquarters, London.

"So that's divided equally between the Swiss, English, and Australian accounts, right? Okay, and how much of that is liquid right now? Brilliant. Thanks. Yeah hold it there till I call you back. All right. Thanks. Bye."

"Where are we, then?"

"Above projections," Elijah replied, swivelling around in his chair to face Viggo. "We might be able to make a move more quickly than expected on some fronts… I've got the technology team working on the systems for some of these 'truth committees' based in the South. It looks like they're trusting some half-witted computer geeks with no credentials to get their systems together, at least at a local level. It's small, but if we delete neighbourhood files we've got at least an initial chance at delaying their operations."

"Excellent. I've talked with some people in the nonprofits, as well. Looks like we've got the word out through our undercover contacts to some of the lower level people in the ACLU and the HRC at least, and a few with the NAACP. Staff attorneys, mostly, but there are at least a few willing to do what they can with the laws that are still on the books, talk quietly with some Congressmen and Senators about what we're doing."

"Awesome. And how's Sean coming along?"

"Pretty well I think. He just got done shooting the television announcements, and he's been working the grapevine as hard as possible, getting more people involved around here. Pete and Karl are doing the same in Zid, and Miranda and Dave and Hugo in Australia, Eric Bana as well."

"So now we've just got to get the UN in there, right?"

"Right. The final draft of the address is on my desk; I'm just going to look through it one more time before Friday."

"You know we're behind you on this, Vig. No matter how it goes over."

Viggo smiled as Elijah reached out and squeezed his shoulder, and nodded, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "I know. Let's just hope it'll all be over soon."

 

August 29th, 2011. Night.

"I think we need one more toast, and this one not to me," Viggo announced, holding up his glass to the group gathered around Sean's dining room table. Orlando and Elijah were there, as well as David Sedaris and his partner, Christiane Amanpour and her husband, two political speechwriters who had helped get Viggo's successful address to the UN together, Henry and Amanda, Sean and Christine Astin, Ian McKellen and his boyfriend, Andy Serkis and his wife Lorraine, several staff members from One World, and a handful other British actors who had been instrumental in getting things done in the past month. Viggo was well on his way to getting drunk, and no one felt a need to stop him.

"This is to the incomparable Mr. Sean Bean, without whom we would not have a place to get intoxicated tonight," he began, waiting for the laughter to settle down before he continued. "And without whom, I wouldn't have had any hope at sanity or even, unbelievably, happiness, over the past two months. To Sean!"

Everyone laughed and clinked glasses and repeated the toast, and Viggo just grinned and turned to his right as he caught Sean's surprised look, reaching up to touch the other man's pink-tinged cheek. "Love you," he whispered, smiling brightly as he leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together for a moment.

And then the moment was gone, and it was back to carousing, and Viggo never noticed Sean sitting next to him, staring at Viggo and touching his own cheek.

 

"God, that was an amazing party," Viggo exclaimed, giving Sean a noisy smack on the cheek as Orlando and Elijah set to tidying up at superhuman speed, the rest of the party guests sent home in cabs or with designated drivers. "Thanks."

"Didn't do much," Sean argued, not blushing this time as his own tipsiness had some benefit.

"Sure ya did. Hey Orlando!"

"Yes?" Orli replied, quirking his lips up in an amused grin as Viggo called loudly for him from a few feet away.

"You've got a long trip tomorrow. Don't you need to feed?"

"Well… I was going to ask you in the morning. When you were a little less drunk."

"When I was _hungover_, you mean. God you're cruel."

Orlando smiled and shook his head. "You'd go right back to sleep."

"Do it now. C'mon, Orli. It'll be nice. It'd go well with drunkenness, you know… your bite… 's kind of… sensual, even."

Orlando just continued to watch Viggo in amusement, while Elijah, emerging from the kitchen, narrowed his focus on his friend. "You calling my boyfriend sensual, Mortensen?"

Viggo laughed and shook his head. "Just his blood-sucking habit, Elijah. I assure you it's completely paton… platonic."

"Right…"

"C'mon, Orli. Sean's here. He'll take care of me. Won't you, Beanie?" Viggo grinned lopsidedly at Sean, and Sean just stared.

"Little drunk myself, Vig…"

"Even better. C'mon, to the bedroom, let's go."

Orlando and Elijah exchanged a brief look, and then Elijah nodded, kissing Orli's forehead. "I'll finish up out here. You go ahead."

Viggo was all smiles as he led the way to his room, gesturing to the bed for Sean, who dutifully climbed in and sat back against the pillows, separating his legs so that Viggo could crawl in between them, significantly more cuddly than the previous time.

"Mmm. Feels nice," he murmured, snuggling into Sean's arms when he wrapped them around Viggo's waist, and missing Orlando's raised eyebrow as he leaned in.

"Ready?"

"Mmm hmm," Viggo agreed with a smile, gasping slightly when Orlando bit down and then arching into the bite, moaning without restraint as he entered that floating plane again, this time intensified by the drink in his system. "Sean…" he whispered as Orlando sucked at the vein, and he not only felt Sean squeeze his hand in reassurance, but a definite twitch from where he was basically sitting in Sean's lap.

When Orlando had drunk his fill and closed the wound, Viggo turned suddenly, facing Sean and seeing something through the haze that he hadn't noticed before in Sean's eyes. "Sean…" he whispered again, this time softer, and without hesitation pressed his lips against Sean's own.

"Fuck… Viggo…" Sean whispered when he pulled away, and then his hands tightened on Viggo's hips and his tongue was plundering his friend's mouth, and Viggo's moans were reverberating through Sean's body as Orlando slunk off to go find Elijah.

"'S good," Viggo whispered dreamily when Sean pulled away again, gasping when Sean's lips turned now to his neck. "Mmm…. Sean… 's good…"

"Been wanting… oh God… been wanting this…"

"You…" _Gasp._ "… you have?"

"Yeah…" Sean groaned and pushed his thigh between Viggo's legs. "You feel so good… want you…"

"Mm… Sean… touch me," Viggo murmured. "Too tired to… just touch me."

Sean nodded quickly and leaned back against the pillows again, pulling Viggo between his legs and unzipping Viggo's jeans quickly, pushing them down his legs and sliding a hand in between Viggo's thighs. "Want you so much…" he murmured against Viggo's neck, just below his ear, nibbling as he wrapped his hand around Viggo's cock and squeezed. "Want you safe… here… mine…"

Viggo gasped and whimpered and pushed into Sean's hand, his own hands scrabbling for a grip on Sean's thighs. "God… Sean… please…"

"Yes," Sean hissed, stroking harder, his other hand brushing Viggo's cheek and trailing across his lips, pushing two fingers into Viggo's mouth. "Want you like this… have wanted you… so much, Jesus."

"Oh God," Viggo gasped, letting Sean's fingers slide from his mouth. "Didn't know… didn't… fuck!"

Sean kept stroking as Viggo's cock twitched, spilling into his hand, and didn't stop until Viggo was trembling weakly, warm and sated.

"Mm… Sean…" Viggo whispered, and something in Sean's heart tugged, hard.

"Christ… Viggo…"

"So good to me…" he whispered, rolling a little so that he was lying on his side, Sean spooned up behind him. "So good to me…"

"Vig… have to…"

"Sorry Sean… so sleepy… touch yourself, for me? Please? Later, I'll… later… promise."

Sean groaned at Viggo's half-drunk, half-drugged tone, and the way he wriggled his arse back against Sean's erection, and it didn't take much more convincing than that for Sean to reach down between his legs, kicking off his trousers and bringing himself to completion in just a few strokes, biting down without thinking on Viggo's neck, the left side this time, the opposite of where Orlando had bitten.

"Mmm…" Viggo murmured as Sean wiped his hand on a tissue and then wrapped his arm around Viggo's waist, grabbing Sean's hand and tugging him closer by it. "That'll have a mark… not like Orlando's… like it… you marking me…"

"Jesus," Sean whispered again, closing his eyes as his soft cock twitched painfully. Viggo was asleep.

 

The next morning. Breakfast.

"Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee's fine," Sean muttered, holding his head and gingerly opening cabinets to find a clean water glass.

"Shouldn't I be worse off than you?"

"How should I know? Maybe a vampire's bite has some sort of miraculous hangover-cure powers."

Viggo raised an eyebrow and chose not to comment on Sean's impressively grumpy mood. "Guess Orlando's gone by now."

"Guess so. Bloody insane to try to canoe across the northern Atlantic in three or four days, if you ask me, but I guess he knows his own limits."

"If the canoe breaks, he can swim."

"That far?"

"You didn't see him in the bay. He doesn't show it much but, he's pretty strong."

"I guess if Elijah's not worried we've no need to be."

"Yeah. Sean?"

"Yes?"

"Is there any reason you're bound and determined to be an asshole to me this morning?"

Sean raised his eyebrows, and then frowned. "What are you…"

"Sean, I don't care if last night was just a drunken thing, it's fine, I'll live. What I can't handle is having the man who's been the closest friend I've had through this whole ordeal suddenly decide to close himself off to me."

Sean frowned. "I'm not… I don't… oh, sod it."

Viggo was rather proud of himself for managing not to squeal as Sean manoeuvred him bodily against the row of cabinets and laid a hard kiss on his lips. Rather than jumping away, as Viggo rather expected him to after a moment, his hands only tightened on Viggo's shoulders as his tongue licked deeper into Viggo's mouth, all visible evidence of the hangover gone as he pressed up against his friend.

"Christ, Sean… what…"

"I'm sorry, I just can't… can't keep my hands off you," Sean admitted, his tone gruff. "Not now I've had bit of a taste."

"You're… Jesus, you're serious."

Sean frowned. "Vig, do you want me to…?"

"No!" Viggo interrupted, locking his arms around Sean's waist and tugging him back to Viggo's body when he tried to step away. "No… just surprised, is all. I didn't think that you'd want…"

"You?"

"This," Viggo amended with a shrug.

"Well I don't fancy blokes as a rule. Don't get any ideas."

Viggo smiled. "I'm not. Is it one of those… attracted-to-the-victim things, though? Cause I don't think I can handle you pulling away when I'm back on my feet, to be perfectly honest."

"No, Viggo, it's… not that. I've felt like this, well… for a while. Tried not to. Can we try it, though? Us?"

"Yeah," Viggo agreed with another smile. "I'd like that. Horrible time to start a relationship, but…"

"But you want to?"

Viggo nodded. "I want to make an honest go of it. As best we can, while getting all this shit sorted out."

Sean shook his head. "I know it's not easy. But we're making progress, right? Your speech went over well. The UN is getting involved."

"I just don't want more innocent people killed. If this turns into war…"

"There has to be a limit to what he can do, Vig. He's the President, but… it's how history works, right? The dictator goes to far, alienates his support base, and they turn against him. Your President may be smart, but he's not much of an historian."

Viggo gave Sean a look of surprise.

"What? Didn't fancy me much of one either, did you mate?"

"No, I just… didn't know."

Sean smiled and pressed a light kiss to Viggo's lips. "Lot you don't know about me, love. But I'll let you find out, whatever you'd like to know."

Viggo smiled. "I'd like that."

 

September 2nd, 2011. Afternoon.

"Elijah, I'm sure he's fine. It's only been four days…"

"Yeah, maybe he just forgot to let you know…"

"It's not a bloody answering service!" Elijah exclaimed, throwing up his hands and giving Sean and Viggo exasperated looks. "I can read his damned mind… he should be able to at least tell me whether or not he's all right."

"Well…" Viggo started and then shrugged, not really knowing what comfort he could offer in the situation. Instead, he and Sean exchanged looks over Elijah's head and then both moved forward, enveloping him in a hug from either side.

"Just give him a few more days," Sean suggested, gently stroking Elijah's hair. "It wouldn't be smart for you to go after him. I mean, he's a vampire… he can't die, right?"

Elijah shivered and pressed his face against Sean's chest. "Humans can't kill him… but if he was stuck in the middle of the ocean for too long without being able to feed…"

"Let's not think about that," Viggo suggested, rubbing Elijah's back. "Orlando's strong, and he's not stupid. He wouldn't have done this if he thought there was a chance he wouldn't make it."

"I just… I feel so helpless, you know? He's the strong one; I'm used to feeling like he's invincible. Even now, knowing that his blood runs in my veins… he's my protector, he's so much stronger than me…"

"He's alive, Elijah," Sean interrupted, his voice strong and sure.

"How do you know?"

Sean shrugged. "I just do. Come to the kitchen, I'll make you a cup of tea."

Elijah nodded. "All right… all right."

 

Viggo knew the moment Orlando had contacted Elijah the next morning. He was sitting in the kitchen, stirring but not attempting to eat his cereal, looking even more pale than usual and extremely withdrawn, when suddenly he perked up, a smile coming to his face.

After a moment, he turned to Viggo and Sean and grinned.

"He's all right?" Viggo prompted gently.

"He had to ditch the canoe and stay underwater. It takes some energy to contact me, and there was a ship… he had to conserve energy to stay underwater and undetected, and then swim the rest of the way; it was a close call…"

"But he's all right?"

"He made it to the New England coast and is heading south now."

"Well that's good news, then."

"He needs to feed, but he'll find someone quickly. He's staying under the radar as much as possible, obviously."

"Well he might be able to kill two birds with one stone, right?" Sean pointed out. "I mean, if there are people doing really awful things, he could…"

"Yeah, that's the plan," Elijah agreed quickly, and for the first time Viggo realised how uncomfortable the younger vampire was with the idea of killing people to further their cause. As much as he hated the people who were doing this to his country, he didn't blame him.

"Look, best thing we can do now is just stay vigilant," Sean suggested. "Keep working, keep things moving above ground while Orli looks for targets in the country."

"Wish the UN wasn't so God damned slow," Elijah muttered.

"Believe me; they're moving quicker than they ever have before," Viggo reasoned. "But I don't blame them, I mean, think of how many times we've ignored serious problems worldwide because they didn't affect us… taste of our own medicine, I guess."

"That's pretty fucking cruel," Elijah argued.

"The world is cruel. You'll realise that once you've lived here, oh, a few hundred years," Viggo replied bitterly.

"Vig…"

"It's all right, Sean. I'm sorry. Let's just… can we just go to work?"

Sean was silent for a moment, and then nodded. "All right. Let's go."

 

September 4th, 2011.

"Fuck, I'm drunk."

Viggo laughed out loud and slung an arm companionably around Dom's waist. "Of course you are."

"I'm just making sure you're all aware of my condition," Dom argued, cueing an eyeroll from Billy. The five of them had gone out to a pub for a rare night out, and both Viggo and Dom were quite hammered, Sean and Billy considerably less so. Elijah, though he was enjoying himself, couldn't actually get drunk anymore, a fact that made Viggo frown with confusion as they rounded the corner.

"Wait… 'Lijah… I don't understand…"

"Don't understand what, Vig?" Elijah asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Orli… can't get drunk…" he said slowly.

"Yes…"

"So how could he have been such a lush in New Zealand?"

"Faking."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I think he's a better faker than an actor, then."

Elijah snorted but then suddenly shoved Viggo away, into Dom. Viggo frowned, stumbling a bit, and gave Elijah an odd look, but he was already turning, diving in front of Viggo.

"What the…?"

The shot hit Elijah clean in the chest, and then fell dully to the pavement at the same time he did. The second went wide, and by the time the hammer went back for the third, the man's neck had snapped.

It took a minute for Viggo's brain to resolve what was going on, but he knew a dead man when he saw one. Elijah was standing over the figure dressed in black, clucking his tongue with a look of disdain. He reeled back and spat, hitting the guy in one open eye.

"Ass," he muttered as the group caught up to him. "I _hate_ killing people."

Billy raised an eyebrow at Sean, who had pulled Viggo tight to his side, presumably without thinking. Elijah had bent to look for a wallet, an ID, something, but the man was clean. And then he flinched, sensing something, and was on his feet in the blink of an eye. Sean pushed Viggo protectively to the wall of the building next to them, away from the possibility of an open shot. Elijah's eyes scanned the empty street, and then

_Crack._

The sound of a skull against brick was unnerving, as Sean threw his bulk into the man who had rounded the corner after his buddy, a bit smaller than their first attacker but also dressed in black and carrying a gun. Stumbling, trying to escape from Sean's grasp, he fired the gun, and Viggo jumped. He felt a slight sting in his hand, and the palpable rage in Elijah as he rounded on the guy, knocking him away from Sean, taking the gun and shooting him in the chest with it. This time, the sarcasm and humour was gone from Elijah's tone, and he became businesslike, ushering the group quickly towards Orlando's house, which was closest. Sean walked to the outside of Viggo, shielding him, and Elijah's eyes darted around, taking in the entire area at once as he hurried them along. Near the house, they heard shots again, and made a run for the last twenty metres, hurrying in the back door as Elijah rounded on the man with the gun.

It was deafeningly silent in the hallway, the only part of the house with no windows, where they sat, huddled in a row in the dark and waiting for Elijah to return. Five minutes later, he made it back. There were six of them. They were going to have to be more cautious now; Viggo was going to have to be with Elijah at all times when he wasn't in the house. Thankfully, Sean's house already had an excellent security system, and these guys weren't well-trained professionals. If it had been an attempt on Viggo's life orchestrated by the US government, they would've sent snipers. Men armed with handguns were more likely vigilantes, and that much they could deal with.

It wasn't until an hour of discussion, of planning, that Viggo thought to look at his own hand, now throbbing and burning slightly from the bullet that had grazed it. Elijah closed the wound, and he took a paracetamol for the pain, but it was Sean's gentle kiss to the skin between thumb and forefinger that really made it better.

 

September 8th, 2011.

"You know, in a way I'm insanely jealous of the two of you."

Viggo looked up from the computer he was working on in the large cluttered office and frowned at Elijah. "Of Sean and I?"

"Yeah."

"Why on earth would you be jealous of us? You have Orlando for the rest of eternity."

"Yeah, but you get to grow old together. That's a nice thought, you know?"

Viggo shrugged, though the thought sent something warm through his veins. "It's still early in the relationship, isn't it? I mean we don't know that…"

"Bullshit. I know the two of you."

"You think?"

Elijah smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

"Does it bother you, that you know now you'll have to watch your parents and your friends… well… die? I mean, you're going to outlive all of us."

Elijah thought for a moment. "In a way, yes. But it's sort of separate. I mean, the years of my mortal life will always be special. Orlando still remembers his, his parents and his real siblings… he had two brothers before he was turned. He remembers those friends, as well, and the people he loved. But once they were all gone, he had a chance to start a new life with his sire."

"And when he died?"

Elijah shrugged. "I know it was hard for him, for a long time. I think maybe that's why he eventually decided to take on something so risky, so visible. He could be part of a group for a few years, you know. I think he got more companionship than he bargained for, but he doesn't regret it."

"I think we all did," Viggo pointed out. "But it all worked out pretty well."

"I'd say so."

"Speaking of Orlando, where is he now, do you know?"

"New York. He's found out where one of the top people with the whole evangelical movement is headquartered, and he's planning on taking him out and destroying all the computers."

"Isn't that risky? I mean if someone sees his face…"

"Yeah, we don't have the advantage of easy secrecy in this, but we can also make ourselves go unnoticed to humans if we want to."

"Invisible?"

"No, but we're pretty good at stealth."

Viggo nodded. "You know, I've been wondering. The Dracula legends, all that… is any of it true, do you know?"

Elijah shrugged. "Some of it, I think. I mean, it had to come from somewhere. I do know that there were a lot of vampires in Europe, especially around when Orli was turned. You'd have to ask him for details, though. I'm still a baby vamp."

Viggo smiled at that and shook his head. "And yet in mortal years, you'll always be older than Orlando, you do realise."

Elijah snorted. "Not that he'll ever think of it that way. Besides, life expectancy was a lot shorter when he was born."

"True. So are you planning on going back into the country anytime soon?"

"I don't know; I might. I still have some family, more distant relatives, who are there. I might see if they can be of any help, but I don't know. I want to see how this UN thing goes down first."

"It'll be interesting to see how the President reacts. But the peacekeeping troops have the support of almost every other nation… I can't imagine him ordering troops to open fire outright."

"Still, the force isn't going to be big enough to really defend themselves against a full US attack. I mean, they could end up hostages and then we'd all look pretty stupid."

"And other nations would react fairly quickly in that case…"

"Which means what, in international terms? I don't know, Vig. I can't imagine this being an easy battle."

"Well, it won't be easy. But we're not going for easy. We're going for being able to go home, Elijah. And I have to believe that we will, sooner or later."

Elijah sighed and crossed his hands in his lap, forced to agree. Whatever happened, he just wanted Orlando back.

 

September 11th, 2011.

"Holy shit. Holy _shit_! Are you guys seeing this?"

"Lijah, shut up, I can't hear the telly."

Elijah growled slightly at Dom, but otherwise went silent, bouncing on his toes in a crouch on one end of Dom and Billy's sofa as the five of them watched the satellite feed from New York. The American station was covering the event as a negative occurrence, and focusing on efforts to quell the protests, but Viggo couldn't help but feel a small surge of victory. Negative or positive, they _were_ covering it, and perhaps that was more significant than the made-for-censors slant of the broadcast.

Whatever movement there was, it had to be underground, but someone had gotten word out, and thousands of people had gathered on the site of the former World Trade Center complex, with more pouring in every hour as it became obvious that protestors far outnumbered the police's ability to act. The march was peaceful, and though National Guardsmen were supposedly being mobilised, some NYPD officers were actually going against orders and refusing to get involved. Arrests had been made, but no shots had been fired, and a growing crowd, estimated at a hundred thousand now, five pm Eastern Standard Time, was marching uptown. The broadcasters reported that the destination of the throng was the closed United Nations Headquarters, and the protest was against the Administration's isolationist policies and a series of dangerous trends that had begun with the Bush Administration's usurpation of rights from this date ten years previous.

Across the ocean, Sean, Viggo, Dom, Billy and Elijah sat glued to the television, watching with bated breath to see what would happen next.

"They're going to open fire," Viggo murmured, his hands balled into fists and his body tense despite Sean's comforting hand rubbing up and down his back. "They have to… but it could work to our advantage. Think Boston Massacre. Think Soviet Union. If they fire on a peaceful demonstration…"

"There will be more demonstrations," Billy filled in.

"Exactly."

"Shite, though. I can't believe they actually managed this. I mean this many…"

"It's a simple principle," Viggo interjected. "If you stand in a square and yell your beliefs at the top of your lungs, someone will join you. And then two more people, and then four, and eight… there's safety in numbers, and resistance always increases exponentially in a case like this, especially when the government has limited indigenous support."

"But they do have support," Dom argued. "I mean, the Christian groups, right? And the hardcore conservatives?"

"Sure, but it's still a minority, and the more out-and-out discrimination and indiscriminate killing the President practices, the more he's going to alienate his base of support. He's depending largely on veiling the truth, here. If it becomes exposed, people are going to realise what's going on. Think of Nazi Germany, or McCarthy even. He's eventually going to self-destruct."

"We hope," Elijah mumbled. "They've got a little help there, though. The Guard can't get in via land because of afternoon traffic," he pointed out with a laugh. "They have to helicopter in."

"Where's Orli?" Dom asked.

"Sabotaging helicopters," Elijah replied with a grin.

Viggo grinned back and shook his head. "How?"

"Punching holes in the gas tanks. Only so much he can do at a time, and there's still only one of him, but he's taken care of security forces and is trying to keep them from getting off the ground. He'll stall as long as he can."

"Your boyfriend the renegade," Dom muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I don't think I've ever been so happy about how inept and inefficient our military bureaucracy is until this moment," Viggo broke in. "I bet they're just shitting themselves looking for a Plan B."

"Their hearts aren't in it," Elijah pointed out. "They might not want to disobey orders, but it's like another Vietnam. I'd like to think some men in the military feel a little uncomfortable firing on peaceful fellow citizens."

"Let's hope," Viggo agreed. "This will give us an idea of how they'll react to the UN forces, at least."

"I guess we just have to watch and wait," Elijah reasoned, and Viggo nodded.

"As always."

 

September 13th, 2011.

"The President's worried. This is our chance."

"How bad is it on the ground?"

"He's scared shitless, seriously. Orli's sneaking around, he's this close…"

"Why can't he just…"

"Finish the job? He could, but it wouldn't be legitimate. The President needs to be arrested, not have his blood sucked and be left for dead. It'd arouse too many suspicions, strengthen the opposition."

"Shit. I hate this."

"I know."

"They've got to get their act together."

"They will."

 

September 15th, 2011.

"You taste like raspberries."

"What?"

Sean's laugh was choking, converted to a gasp as Viggo pinched his nipple tight between two fingers and then bit down, Sean's cock pressing into his belly button, a strangely intimate movement.

"Touch me."

"Why… fuck… why do you do these things to me, Viggo?" It didn't matter, of course, because his hands were already tightening on Viggo's waist, and his pelvis was already thrusting up, up, into the hard muscles of Viggo's abdomen.

"Because we need to remember this," Viggo replied simply, before he slid down, down, and swallowed Sean's cock.

 

September 17th, 2011.

"Shit, fuck."

"What?"

"Another march in San Francisco. The news crews couldn't get in this time, though. But mostly gay and lesbian groups…"

"Violent?"

"They've opened fire. It's… gruesome."

"Shit. Where's Orli?"

"He's got friends…"

"Yeah?"

"They're taking pictures."

"Yes."

 

September 19th, 2011.

"The President's panicking."

"About damned time."

"Well I don't know how much I want an irrational fuckwit running my country, ta very much."

"You spend too much time with Orli, Elijah."

"You spend too much time with Sean. You said 'bugger it' the other day, when you stubbed your toe on the fridge. I heard you."

"Did I?" Viggo smiled, fondly, and Elijah smiled back.

"The pictures are everywhere. People being shot, and worse… some of the lead evangelicals are getting involved, someone… someone dropped a male protestor's pants and shoved a nightstick up his ass."

"Jesus. Really?"

"Not too gently. He died from it."

"_Fuck_."

"But the President's panicking."

"I didn't want there to be martyrs in this, Elijah. Not like this."

"There are always martyrs, Vig."

Elijah's sad smile was older than his years.

 

September 21st, 2011.

"They're on their way in, but the President knows what's going on."

"Shit. Couldn't we have at least gotten a teeny bit of stealth?"

"Not likely. I mean, this is the UN. This is the United _States_."

"But they're almost in?"

"Yeah. No challenge thus far. But the President is being moved. They know what's going on."

"Shit."

"And Orli's tailing him."

"Oh. Oh…" A slow smile spread to Viggo's face. "Oh."

 

September 23rd, 2011.

"He's made contact with them. They're on their way. The President's trapped in the mountains, heavily armed, but with no way out."

A cheer went up among those gathered in Sean's living room. Dom kissed Billy hard on the lips, and Jack, whose turn it was Billy's to watch this weekend, looked confused. But then Elijah swept the little boy up in his arms and spun him around, and he too was giggling happily. Viggo smiled and pressed his head against Sean's chest, sliding his arms around the other man's waist.

"They've almost done it…"

"No," Sean corrected, a smile teasing at his lips. "_We've_ almost done it."

 

September 25th, 2011.

High above the dessert, nestled among sheer cliffs that no mortal man could climb, Orlando Jonathan Blanchard Bloom looked out over a pale, clear night. The sky was almost pink, the wind beginning to blow chill and ruffle the cape he wore drawn around his shoulders. Anyone watching would have seen a sharp shadowy figure, black against the red sand and rock of the precipice, but no one was watching. Five miles off, a force of several thousand men approached the range in Jeeps and helicopters, tanks and fighter jets. Never before had Orlando acted so directly in the making of history, but tonight was not for him. Tonight was for Viggo, and for Elijah, and for friends that made him feel deeper than he had allowed himself to feel in over two hundred years. Tonight blood would flow, and Orlando would not feel guilty. He turned the corner, approached the guard at the door of the Presidential fortress, and silently struck.

 

September 26th, 2011. Very early morning.

"They've got him! The casualties were heavy, but they got him out alive… they're bringing him to the waiting plane now!"

Elijah's frenzied message was cut off by cheers and the clinking of glasses, the third get-together at Sean's house in as many nights as the friends who had worked to set this effort into motion watched and waited. The following days would be difficult, as would the following months. The President had to be safely removed from the country, and stealth forces were moving, even that night, to intercept other men deemed criminals in the eyes of the world. Not every attempt would be a success, but the people were mounting their support, and citizens would topple small-minded men in their community day after day, galvanized by the idea that the world was watching. Slowly, the journalists would take back the media, and a viable alternative candidate would make a move for 2012. There was a feeling that the world would be safe again.

Much later that night, in Sean's bedroom, two of our heroes collapsed together in a tangle of sweat and muscle and damp cotton sheets. Sean reached up, and brushed a strand of hair out of Viggo's eyes, and they kissed. And out of the corner of Viggo's eye, he saw the sun begin to tinge the white curtains pink, the dawn of a new day. On his fifty-third birthday, Viggo would return home with his lover, under the protection of his friends. It would take time to rebuild, but they would do so, together. Nothing was more sacred than that.


End file.
